Opposites Still Attract
by not-so-dumb-blonde
Summary: Hey all! Sorry about the little skematics problem with Chapter 6. It has been fixed! By the way, for those of you who are interested, Chapter 7 is underway! Spoilers? "Teach Me Tonight" And that's all I'm liable to say. However, all furry things and names
1. Out

A/N:The is completely AU. I just wanted to see if it would work. Let's say instead of a girl, Lorelai had a boy, who she named Christopher Jess. He is the male version of Rory. Kind, nice, intelligent, and a reader. His best friend is still Lane but goes to Chilton, Friday night dinners included. You ask if he's got a female Dean? Oh, yes. Her name is Dana. She's from Chicago and looks like a Barbie doll. Rory, on the other hand, is Rory Adriana Mariano and the offspring of Jimmy and Liz. She's the bad girl with an attitude that's even worse. Sarcastic, lazy, extremely misanthropic, but a book worm nonetheless. The point is, if their lives switched, would they still find each other? You'll have to read and find out.

Disclaimer: It all belongs to the genius of Amy Sherman-Palladino

On with the story,

It was your typical day in the beautiful, quaint town of Stars Hollow, Connecticut. It's people were kind, generous, a tad bit on the eccentric side, but nevertheless, kind and generous. And two of Stars Hollow's infamous citizens walked into Luke's Diner for their afternoon caffeine fix: Mother and son combo, Lorelai and Jess Gilmore.

"You're usual?" Luke Danes asked in his usual monotone.

The both nodded, as Luke placed two plates in front of them, cheeseburgers and fries, while filling their mugs with coffee.

"How was school?" She asked him.

"Fine. Paris, Tristen, and I are doing some kind of Dickens thing in Mr. Medina's class." He replied, loosening the knot in his tie before removing his Chilton blazer.

"Interesting," She answered, munching on warm fries.

Luke looked at Lorelai as if he was about to tell her some deep, dark secret. "What?" She exclaimed.

"You remember me telling you about my sister Liz?" Luke asked.

"Vaguely. Why?"

"She called me last night. Told me she left something on my doorstep. I thought she was crazy. Flipped her lid. Drunk most assuredly."

Lorelai nodded, sipping on her coffee.

"Well, after we hung up, I went down to the diner, and there she was."

"Who? Your sister?"

"No. My niece," Luke explained.

As if on cue, a skin&bones brunette padded down the stairs, her blue eyes piercing everything in their path. Her long, chocolate locks swished as she walked. Her peaches and cream complexion glowed, out-shining her grungy jeans, gray tank top, and black Chuck Taylors. Her only jewelry was a silver thumb ring and the buttons on her leather jacket that hung off her shoulder.

"Well, speak of the devil, Rory this is Lorelai Gilmore and her son Jess. Lorelai, Jess, this is my niece. Rory Mariano."

"Charmed, I'm sure." She stated, before shuffling towards the glass door.

"Hey, where're you going?" Luke exclaimed."

Without turning around, she simply said, "Out."

Very short, I know. However, it will get longer. You'll see scenes you're very familiar with such as those that have to do with, the novel _Howl_, dead chalk people, gnomes, Bjork, fractured arms, dance marathons, swans, if you get my drift. I hope you liked it as much as I have cultivating how I'm going to put a spin on it. Please, R/R. I thrive on it.

The next chapter: Remember the dinner at the Gilmore house when Jess first moved to town?


	2. Howling at the Moon

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews. They were much appreciated, especially those of you who gave constructive criticism — you know who you are! Anyway, like I said, remember the dinner invitation to Luke and Jess? If you don't, this chapter will remind you . . .somewhat.

On with the story . . . .

The older man, forever clad in flannel and his trusty backwards, blue baseball cap, nervously rang the doorbell. It was quite obvious that the thin teen standing next to him did not want to be there. She stood there, arms crossed and hip jut out. Her white tank top fell just above her pierced navel, and you could see her hip bone protruding. Then again, her body language was the only indicator of her exact mood. Her arms said, 'when do we leave?' Her blue eyes said, 'I'm extremely uncomfortable right now.'

"These people are really nice, okay," Luke began hopefully what would not seem like a lecture, " Lorelai invited us out of the goodness of her heart. Try not to say anything rude. If you feel like saying something out of turn, just zip it!"

"Thank you for that Mayberry moment, Andy."

Luke just sighed, completely exasperated.

Lorelai then came to the door. "Hey you two!" She said with extreme cheerfulness. Rory could tell immediately that it was all a facade.

"Thanks for inviting us, Lor." Luke replied, politely.

"No problem. So, Rory, how are you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Peachy-keen, jelly bean! How're the rest of the Pink Ladies?" She matched Lorelai's faux blithe with sarcasm, her greatest defense mechanism.

"Just great! Later, Me, Jan, and Marty are gonna head down to the Frosty Palace for an Eskimo Pie. You should come!" Nobody could top Lorelai when it came to movie references.

She already hated this woman. Rory inwardly told herself she could so top her later while Luke just stood there uncomfortably.

"Can we come in?" He finally broke the silence.

"Sure, Sookie's coming with dinner. You know I can't cook. Come on in." They followed her into the living room, "Jess, honey, Luke and Rory are here!" She turned her attention back to them. "So, just make yourselves at home. You wanna drink? Pick your poison."

"Iced tea." "Vodka."

This girl was challenging her. Lorelai knew it. "One iced tea and one _soda_ coming up. Nice try, Ally Sheedy! You got any more surprises for us. Dandruff problems, covered bridge fetish,? You're not a nympho, are you?"

She sneered " I could ask you the same thing. Pregnant at sixteen? That's impressive!"

Lorelai's eyes dilated. That was one thing that she did not talk about. Luke just glared at her.

Rory just matched his glare, but then, making herself completely at home, walked through the swinging door into the kitchen.

"Sorry about that, Lorelai. She's really incredulous about everything right now. Her mother kicked her out. Just give her a few days. She'll warm up."

Lorelai smiled warmly. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. Let's just get ready to eat. Sookie should be here any minute." She then went into the kitchen to find Jess sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hey, Kiddo. Did Rory come through here?" She asked.

"If she did, I didn't see her. Is Sookie here with the food yet?"

"I'm expecting her any time now. Go into the living room and keep Luke company while I get things ready in here, 'kay."

"Sure."

As her son left, she went out the back door leading to the porch to find a very familiar sight. Rory just stood there quietly, sipping a Miller Light. She then pulled a pack of Marlboro lights out of the pocket of her leather jacket she wore over her white tank top, the same grungy jeans, and black Chuck Taylors on her feet. After taking a cigarette out, she place the almost empty pack back in the pocket. Lighting it, she took a long and drag, fingers shaking nervously much like a Parkinson's patient. Lorelai instantly felt a pang of de-já-vù. She had definitely been there before.

"Who would've thought? You brought me a beer. That was awfully kind of you!" Lorelai exclaimed, moving beside her and slipping the amber long-neck from her thin fingers.

"That's what I tell myself every morning when I get out of the bed. A little kindness goes a long way." She opined, taking another drag.

"I'm gonna be blunt with you," she took the cigarette from her mouth, putting it out on the deck with the heel of her shoe, "first of all, you're too young to be smoking. Second, Luke may not see through your little bad girl image, but I do. I know it like the back of my hand. You may not believe this, but I was you. You said so yourself. I got pregnant at sixteen, remember? I was just . . ."

"Listen, Lorelai! That's your name, isn't it? Lorelai? Well, no matter how hard you try to relate to my situation. You can't! Uncle Luke told me what you grew up with. Yep, a silver spoon in that quippy, little mouth of yours. You don't know a _damn_ thing about me! So save the reverse psychology for your own kid, June Cleaver!"

She angrily marched back into the kitchen, but not before running into Sookie St. James with an armful of groceries from Doose's Market.

"Hi, you must be Rory! I'm Sookie!"

She said nothing and kept walking. Her rage eventually brought her to a room off the kitchen. It obviously belonged to a teenage boy. She gazed around, hitting the highlights — hockey equipment, blue ribbons from science fairs, and a bulletin board covered with the book store's entire stock of Harvard memorabilia. Her eyes finally stopping in front of a gigantic book shelf, filled to a maximum with paperbacks and hard-covers alike. Her fingers glided across spine after spine, extremely intrigued.

"What are you doing?" A voice queried, in the silence of the dimly lit room.

"My, aren't we Hooked on Phonics?" She dead-pannned with a smile. Jess quickly noted that this was the first time he had seen this girl smile.

"You like to read?" all the while, his mind wondering and fearing at the same time what her response would be.

"Nah, not much." She replied, her fingers still drifting until they stopped curiously on his copy of _Howl_. Without even asking, she removed it from the shelf and studied its front and back covers. "This any good?"

Jess raised his eyebrows. "Sure, if that's what you like," he looked at her skeptically, "I don't see you liking it too much."

"Really?"

"You can borrow it . . .if you want. I mean, you don't have to, but I don't mind." His head pondered over the idea of whether he would see his book again.

"Great. I suppose I can read a book. I mean, reading is supposed to be fundamental, right?"

"Right. I hope you like it. There's more where that came from."

She chuckled. " I doubt I'll make it through this one,"

There was a pregnant pause. Again, Jess dully noted that he had yet to hear her laugh, either.

She then made a rash statement, "You wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"I was going to sneak out. I wanted some company."

"What are we going to do in Stars Hollow?"

"You can give me the tour." She suggested.

"At night?"

"I don't know the place. Like you said, it's dark. I might run into a lamp post or something."

He chuckled, despite himself. God help him, but she said something, and it actually made him laugh.

"Are we gonna be back for dinner?" He asked.

" Sure, whatever you want."

"Fine, let me get my jacket."

Without a word, the two slipped out the back door, and before either of them knew, they were standing in the street between Luke's Diner and the gazebo.

"So," he said breaking the comfortable silence, " you're from New York?"

"Born and raised."

"Wow, Stars Hollow must be different."

"Yeah. Really different, especially size wise. Stars Hollow is as far as I can tell the size of Ellis Island."

He smiled. "It's very quaint. A little weird. You probably haven't even met all the townspeople, have you?"

"I got here last night."

"Yeah, well, stay away from Taylor, he hates Luke, and the guy that talks to mailboxes."

"Jeez, the post office is tainted for me, now. Damn, and I was just getting over my irrational fear of mailmen." She dramatically snapped her fingers for effect.

Jess laughed. "You might wanna reconsider that fear. Kirk can be quite scary sometimes."

"Mailman?"

"Yep, and repairman, plumber, security guard, runs the beauty supply store . . ."

"He's just a one-man-band, huh?"

"Basically, with cats though."

"Stay away from the crazy guy with stamps, plunger, and nail polish. Right. Dully noted."

She had made him laugh again. She was three for three. " Anyway, thanks for the walk. I gotta go."

"I thought you were gonna eat dinner. Sookie's a really good cook. I mean, Emeril Lagasse can eat his heart out."

She smiled. "Sounds tempting, but I can't. I gotta unpack. I need some time to think without Luke," She then pulled a book out of the bag she had been carrying and tossed it to him. It was _Howl_ "Thanks anyway. Books and me just don't mix. See ya, Gilmore." She turned and started towards the Diner.

He fumbled with the thin paperback in his hand. He noticed some wear and tear in the binding that wasn't there before. Curiously, he thumbed through the pages, which had obviously been read a number of times. In many of the margins, he noticed a small, feminine script. The same handwriting was on almost every page. He turned back to the inside cover, and in the top-left corner it read: _Property of: RAM_. He smirked to himself, she was the biggest liar he had ever met. Smiling, he shuffled back to his house for dinner.

When he opened the front door, he heard his mother.

"Jess?" Lorelai called.

"Hey." He answered, entering the living room to find Lorelai, Sookie, and Luke.

"Where's Rory?" Luke Danes interrogated.

"She left." He replied nonchalantly, a wide grin still plastered across his lips.

"Where did she go? I cooked!" Sookie exclaimed, always insulted that someone would not want to eat her food.

"Back to the Diner."

Luke huffed. "That little sneak! She's gonna get it."

Lorelai looked at him skeptically, "Where have you been?"

He jumped, skittishly. "I tried to stop her. She wouldn't listen. I finally gave up and came back." he actually lied to his mother for this girl. He never lied to his mother.

"Let's just eat. Luke give her some time." Lorelai suggested.

"I'm starved. Let me go put this book in the shelf."

He sauntered to his room, and hastily, put the book in the shelf, just where she had removed the other copy. He then went to the kitchen to eat.

Well, what did you think? I told you it would be longer. It was also a little different than their first meeting on the show, but that's the whole point, I guess. I hoped you liked it. Please R/R! Any type are welcome. Suggestions are welcome too. I'm still quite unsure of how I am going to spin this tale; so, your help is much appreciated. Peace and love-moi!


	3. Tender is the Night

A/N: Thanks for all your wonderful reviews. I appreciate every single one of them. You all help my ego as a writer. This chapter is a little bit outlandish at times; so, just go with it. I hope I gave you all what you requested. I'll say it again at the end, but review!

Disclaimer: If I did, Milo Ventimiglia would be my Cabbana boy bringing me coffee and frozen Margaritas!

On with the story . . . .

It was your typical Stars Hollow morning. Typical, in all sense of the word, of course. The Diner was a mad house in more ways than one simply because it seemed like every one of the town's bizarre citizens came for Luke's famous and delicious breakfast. A sight so entertaining that one might purchase tickets and a jumbo tub of movie theater butter to enjoy it. Taylor was whining about some inane building code — Article B, Section C, Paragraph 4 apparently stated that no more than 37 people could be in a building in Stars Hollow at the same time. Kirk was yammering on about how Caesar used the wrong cheese on his tuna melt, minus the tuna, of course, nor was it cut into half-moon shapes like he had specifically requested. Babbette seemed to be incredibly upset; either Butterscotch had gotten herself once again stuck under the house or Pierpont had the flu, no one was really quite sure. On top of it all, the newest gossip, according to Miss Patty, was that Al was actually adding MSG to his food, despite what it said on all the take-out menus. Amidst the madness, the Gilmores paraded into the Diner and took their seats up at the counter.

"I cannot argue with you today. I am in desperate need of . . .What am I saying? I'm always in desperate need of coffee!" Lorelai exclaimed.

Luke Danes grunted. "It's gonna kill you."

"Yadda, yadda, yadda . . .dying happy . . .Pour, Flannel Man!"

"Must we have this conversation every day? It would definitely save you time, energy, and a few grunts if you would just pour the coffee, Luke." Jess suggested, while watching Luke pour hot coffee into two mugs.

"That's just not logical!" She explained in her own quirky manner.

"Says the woman with the Hello Kitty waffle iron." Her son challenged.

Lorelai merely stuck her tongue out at him.

"Now, that's attractive." Luke added.

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful." She advised, sipping her coffee.

He raised his eyebrows. "Please! Are you two going to order?"

"Two orders of chocolate chip pancakes. One with a side of hashbrowns. The other with a side of bacon." Jess quickly rattled.

"We're out of chocolate chips." He told them.

"No!" Mother and son cried, simultaneously.

"'Fraid so."

Jess looked at his mother. "Do the lip."

Lorelai then turned her head and looked at Luke with pouted lips and welling tears.

Luke just huffed, "Fine. There's an emergency bag upstairs in the apartment, but I'm not the one going to get it."

"Taken care of. Go get it, Jess."

Following his mother's orders and severely needing chocolate pancakes, he eagerly shuffled up the stairs in search of Něstle Tollhouse. Opening the old office door, he found that changes had been made. A long curtain, hung ceiling to floor, cut the room into two sections rather than one. Curious, he opened the curtain to find an unmade, single bed and several opened yet unpacked cardboard boxes. The first box he noticed contained what he thought looked like over one-hundred jewel cases, containing music of several genres old and new. His eyes widened when he knelt down and saw the contents of box number two. _A Farewell to Arms_, _The Last Tycoon_, _The Sun Also Rises_, _The Grapes of Wrath_, _War and Peace_, _The Bell Jar_, _The Dharma Bums_, _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_, _Pride and Prejudice_, _To Kill A Mockingbird_, _The Hobbit_, _On the Road_, _The Picture of Dorian Grey_, and the list went on. He just became tired of digging. He then opened a third box and then a fourth. _Journey to the Center of the Earth_, _I Know Why the Cage Bird Sings_, _The Homecoming_, _Little Women_, _The Lovely Bones_, _East of Eden_, _Oliver Twist_, _The Beautiful and The Damned_, _Great Expectations_, _Animal Farm_, _Captains Courageous_, _Dr. Zhivago, The Scarlet Letter, Catcher in the Rye, The Great Gatsby, A Tale of Two Cities_, _Emma, Visions of Gerard, _and again, he stopped digging. He smiled, he had found her secret.

"Looking for something?" A voice behind him asked.

He jumped, swiftly moving his head where the voice called. He saw her there standing with wet hair, obviously just out of the shower, a wry expression, and raised eyebrows.

"You are one hell of a liar." He opined, rising from his crouched position on the floor.

"You are too damn . . ."

"Nosy?"

"I was gonna say snoopy, but that works too. What are you doing up here?"

"Looking for chocolate chips."

"I don't think you're gonna find any in there, Sherlock. I'd try the fridge."

He took her advice, walking over to the kitchenette. He opened the fridge, and from the bottom shelf, pulled out a bag of chocolate chips.

"What do you know! How did you do it?" Rory playfully inquired.

"Elementary, my dear Watson. Elementary."

They smiled at each other and padded towards the door. The two padded down the stairs together. Lorelai glared skeptically onto the sight before her, and Jess noted his mother's expression.

"How long does it take to find chocolate chips?" She quizzed.

Rory jumped in. "He was looking through the cabinets, and when I came out of the shower, I told him that they were in the fridge." Jess peered at her, marveling at the fact that she took up for him.

"Too late now! So, much for pancakes. And after all that probing! Here I was thinking all those episodes of C.S.I. were paying off." Lorelai replied, never failing to put an eccentric spin on anything.

"What about C.S.I.?" Asked a cutesy, blonde in a pink polo waltzing into the Diner.

Jess grinned, "Hey you!"

"Hey!" She exclaimed, closing the gap between them and softly kissing his lips. "I was hoping to catch you before your bus."

Rory's soft features became callous at the sight, before the blonde's eyes fell on her.

"Your Luke's niece, right?"

"Unfortunately." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I'm Dana. Dana Forrester. Are you coming to Stars Hollow? High school, I mean."

"Maybe."

Dana grinned uncomfortably. "Well, maybe we'll see each other then," She turned her attention to Jess, "We're still on for tomorrow night, right?"

"Of course. I call you tonight after dinner in Hartford." He assured her, not forgetting the weekly Friday Night Dinner with Emily and Richard Gilmore.

"Great! I gotta get going," She kissed him good-bye, "I love you."

"I love you, too." He answered, watching her as she left.

"Romeo, you've got a bus to catch." Lorelai reminded.

"Right, see you later." Jess took one last sip of his coffee, grabbed his backpack, kissed his mother on the cheek, and ran out of the Diner, hoping not to miss his bus.

"Oh..." Lorelai could barely contain herself she was laughing so hard. "My . .God. That is one image that will be ingrained in my mind forever. We're talking double infinity."

"If that exists, me too!" Jess closed his eyes, chuckling once more. "We didn't even get to see it all. Can you imagine his version of _Stranded at the Drive-In_?"

"Oh no! It couldn't be any worse than _Summer Nights_ or God forbid . . ." She stopped mid-sentence and looked at him slyly. "'Why this car could be systematic,' she slid off her leather jacket dramatically, 'hydro-matic!' She spin the jacket in a circle and hurled it across the living room floor. 'Why it could be grease lightning!'"

Jess was rolling on the sofa, laughing hysterically at his insane mother. He wondered if Luke had been right. Maybe they should commit her? Where were those nice men in white coats when you needed them?

"Please don't finish that! I don't need that image too!" He exclaimed.

"So," Lorelai began to propose, " how many times do you think we can watch the real thing to get the image of my father saying 'The chicks'll cream' out of our heads?"

"It will take hours. Days. Months even." He supplied

"We gotta start somewhere."

"You make coffee and get the movie ready. I'll go to Doose's for our _Grease_ marathon junk food extravaganza!"

"Go! Go! Good God go! I can only take so many minutes of flashing images of my father dancing with Cha-Cha de Gregorio!"

"Well, she was the best dancer at St. Bernadette's!" He furthered her torture. .

"With the worst reputation! Go!"

He was still laughing when he ran out the door.

The Diner was completely deserted when Luke Danes came downstairs. He walked behind the counter, picked up a damp rag, and began to wipe the tops in a bartender-like manner, and while he was cleaning, spotted his niece perched up, in the fetal position, in one of the booths with her nose stuck in a book.

"What are you reading?" Luke asked her, continuing to wipe down the already spick and span counter-tops.

"_Tender Is the Night_." She answered coldly and monosyllabic.

"By who?" He asked.

"Whom and Fitzgerald." She never looked at him.

"You're correcting my grammar now?" He queried, still curious about her reading a book he had never heard of before.

"If the shoe fits. . ." She flipped a page.

Luke started to say something but decided not to. He was desperately trying to spark conversation but failing. He had never lived with kids, especially teenagers. Female teenagers. All he knew about was fishing, baseball, and running a diner.

"So, um, what's it about?" He attempted, unsure of what the response would be.

She sighed and flopped the book pages down on the table, marking her place. She glared at him with quirked eyebrows before speaking, "What do you want, Uncle Luke?"

"I was just curious about your book." He stated flatly.

"No, you weren't. What. Do. You. Want?"

He sighed, feeling it was time to give. "Forget it."

"If you must know, its set in the South of France, and the main character is a young American actress named Rosemary Hoyt. She's quite young. She even has her eighteenth birthday in the story. It's basically about her estranged love for this couple. Nicole and Dick Diver. It's one of Fitzgerald's greatest accomplishments."

"Sounds interesting. I talked to the principle of the high school today . . ."

"And the truth comes out."

He struggled to let out his next sentence. " I registered you for school today."

"Why the hell would you wanna do that?"

"Don't kids your age normally go to school?"

"Not me." She replied before, once again, picking up her paperback and started its pages.

Luke exhaled. "Well, you're going whether you like it or not."

"Easy for you to say."She challenged, getting up from the booth. Marking her place and sliding it safely in her back pocket, she walked to the door. She then grabbed her leather jacket just before walking away.

Luke furrowed his brow. "Where're you going?"

All she said was, "Out!"

Like a rebel without a cause, she darted passed the Diner, but not before stopping outside of the Market to have a quick chat.

"Fancy running into you!" She exclaimed to the male Gilmore carrying a large, brown paper bag full of essential sugar and carb-filled goodies.

"Hey!" He greeted with a genuine smile.

"Going on a diet, Little Debbie?" She asked, peering inside his grocery bag.

He chuckled. "We watched my Grandfather dance in leather on an old, homemade video. We're watching _Grease_ to get the image out of our heads. We needed serious amounts of junk food."

"Now, I understand so much better," She replied, always with her quick wit, " So, how's the girlfriend?"

He winced. He should have told her. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason, he felt like he should have told her. "Dana? She's good."

"How long?"

" As a whole? About a year and a half. From the last time we broke up? Not quite sure. I'm sure she knows. I don't. I'm a guy. What else do you expect?"

She smiled knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything else. So, have you heard that Al is adding MSG to his food?" She was trying her best to change the subject.

"Great. No more _Moo Goo Gai Pan_. Right. Anyway," the way she was standing, he noticed the paperback, " What are you reading?"

"This must be a trend," She muttered to herself before answering him, "_Tender Is the Night_."

"Fitzgerald. One of my absolute favorites."

"Really. Favorite character. Please don't say Rosemary."

He smirked. "Not on your life. I hate even the idea of her. You're supposed to feel sorry for her, but I just can't! Abe North, by the way."

"Me too, but I like Nicole better. She's the one I feel sorry for. Though, Abe was the first to suggest that something was going on between Rosemary and Dick, even after the dual"

"True, but do you like or dislike Dick?"

"Quite ambiguous. I'm mean he's supposed to be this arrogant doctor, but he's not. Then again, he's also supposed to be madly in love with his wife, but he's not."

"Right. I sit on the fence there myself. Anyway, I gotta go. My mom is waiting for me."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you're having show tunes night. Call me if you're up for a little_ Oklahoma!_ or _Briggadoon_."

He chuckled. "Will do. Though, my mom does like singing Von Trapps. Be prepared for a rousing round of _The Lonely Goatherd_."

She raised her eyebrows. "Right. Later, Gilmore!"

"You're quite the enigma, Mariano!" He opined, brusquely.

She turned around and looked at him, smiling, "So I've been told."

They stood there a moment, studying the others features, before turning around and walking away.

So? What do you think? This chapter was really fun to write. I hope I answered all your questions. I also tried to give you everything you wanted. You'll see more of the Lorelai/Jess and Luke/Rory interaction as the story continues. I also promise you that Dana will make more appearances, and Lane will be in the next chapter. Anyway, I hoped you liked as much as the last. Please R/R! I always need, love, want them. Peace — moi!

PS: I don't know where that came from, but could you really see Richard Gilmore as Danny Zucco? I bet that will give you nightmares!


	4. Fine Lines

A/N: This chapter came fairly slowly. Part is my own creation, and part is straight dialogue from the show. The dialogue is from the episode the _Ins and Outs of Inns_. You'll recognize it, I promise. Anyway, I want to thank all of you for your reviews of the last chapter. I hope you all will return for chapter 4! R/R. Peace and Love — moi!

Disclaimer: Like I said . . . .Milo . . . .frozen margs . . . .'nuff said!

On with the story . . . .

The bell sounded — a cacophony of loud notes that could be heard throughout the halls. The students herded into the classroom like cattle before sitting down in their seats and retrieving spiral notebooks, textbooks, and pens from their backpacks. The teacher muttered something about homework when a knock at the door was heard. The principal walked in the classroom while ushering Rory in as well.

"Mr. Walker, I apologize for interrupting, but we have a new student," the principal informed with a warm smile.

He glanced at Rory, her eyes glazed and features tight and callous.

"Students, this is Rory Mariano. She's come to our area from New York. I hope you all make her welcome." With that, the principal left.

"Well, Rory," Mr. Walker began, "take your seat. We are about to discuss our homework from last night on the subject of D.H. Lawrence's _The Rocking-Horse Winner_."

She rolled her eyes as she sat in the first empty desk that she spotted. "Mother. Son. Rocking horse. Oedipus Complex. I believe I've read it."

The gray-haired man praised her for her knowledge before beginning to ramble something about thematic elements. She shrugged and then reached into her leather jacket pocket for a beaten paperback — Christopher Moore's _Lamb_. Before finishing the second paragraph, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Rory turned around to a cute Korean girl who was grinning like an idiot.

"Lane Kim," the girl whispered, "I like your shirt,"

Rory self-consciously looked down at her black and pink CBGB's tee. One of her mother's boyfriends had gotten it for her on his trip to Los Angeles on business.

Lane continued, "It's awesome. The Ramones started there. Blondie, The Clash, The Cramps. They all played their at one time or another. It's the Mecca of the punk revolution."

"I agree and thanks." She smiled and then turned back to her book.

"If we're going to get an A, which we are, it is strictly vital that we research Dickens's political standpoint and controversial nature — _Hard Times_, _A Tale of Two Cities_, et cetera!" Paris Ghellar forcefully explained.

"Paris, Dickens wasn't just about poverty or politics. He was a story-teller. His characters were deep and memorable. David Copperfield, the Artful Dodger, or even Pip! No writer in the 19th century created characters like Dickens!" Jess argued.

Madeline and Louise just stood there, quietly chatting amongst themselves about boys, lip gloss, or some other inane topic. Their fifth man, Tristan Dugrey, had yet to arrive. Paris assumed he was off sucking the life out of some poor cheerleader.

"Listen, Bernard Shaw! I know you have an _Oliver Twist_ obsession but immortalizing Nicholas Nickelby and Mrs. Havishem will get us nothing but a C minus!"

"Jeez, Paris, Dickens was more than just this author who wrote about the calamities of the lower classes in England at the turn of the century. He was a genius!"

"Well, Jess, you don't seem to be taking any lessons from him." Paris challenged.

Madeline looked over at Louise and grinned. "I know what you mean." Louise responded.

Madeline nodded her head. "I wish she would just tell him. It's so obvious that she likes him."

The bus came to a complete stop, and Jess Gilmore, fully clad in his Chilton uniform, walked off to find his best friend, Lane Kim, waiting for him with coffee. He smiled, taking the cup from her hand, and they walked arm in arm down the sidewalk towards Luke's diner.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked her.

"Absolutely nothing. I wanted to tell you that I met Luke's niece today. Rory? She seems okay. Bookish type." Lane informed.

Jess laughed out loud. "Rory? Bookish? Not hardly. You might have spotted her engorged in a book, but she's definitely not the tape-on-the-glasses type."

"Anyway, so how's Dana? You're relationship, I mean."

"Great. We went out Saturday night. How's your love life, or lack thereof?"

She glared at him, jokingly. "Phenomenal. I mean, Mama Kim lessened the dating age from forty to thirty-five a couple of days ago; So, I'm hopeful!"

They both laughed, and then, Jess noticed a crowd gathering around the entrance to Doose's Market.

"What the hell?" Jess cursed.

They could see better as they drew closer. The front of Doose's was covered in yellow police tape, and on the sidewalk, they made out what looked like an outline of a person chalked in front of the front door. They then drew even closer towards the chaos to see exactly what the argument was between the police woman, Taylor, and Bootsy.

"This a CATASTROPHE!" Taylor Doose exclaimed.

"Just try to calm down, Taylor." the woman suggested.

"Calm down! Why should I calm down!"

"Yeah, why should he calm down?" Bootsy asked, ever the sidekick.

"I want actions not words." Taylor replied, trying to ignore the boy that was standing next to him.

"Yeah, actions not words."

Taylor glared. "Bootsy, don't you have to get back to your newsstand?"

"Nope, I'm all yours buddy!"

The police woman stepped in. "Look, we're going to try to get to the bottom of this. I promise."

"But a crime was committed in front of my store!" He exclaimed.

"Now, we don't know that yet for sure."

"But I have a dead body in front of my store!"

"No, Taylor, what you have is a chalk drawing of a dead body in front of your store." She logically stated what he already knew.

"Meaning there were two crimes." Bootsy added.

"What?" Taylor and the police woman asked simultaneously.

"You know, somebody got murdered, and someone removed the body. It's open and shut, bing, bang, boom!"

"Look, I call down to the precinct and get a head count of Stars Hollow to see if anyone is missing." She told them.

"There is no way someone was murdered in Stars Hollow! These people won't hold a water gun let alone a real one!" Lane supplied, as she and Jess listened in.

"I know. Looks like a prank to me." Jess suggested.

They quieted as the police woman returned to talk to Taylor after calling headquarters.

"Well, everyone in town is accounted for. Looks like what we've got here is an elaborate prank, Mr. Doose."

"I told you." Jess whispered to Lane.

"A prank? It looks so real. Where did they get the police tape?" Taylor asked, completely shocked.

"Kids have their ways." She told him.

"Who would be so depraved as to do something like this?"

The woman just shrugged her shoulders. "Hard to say."

When Jess and Lane started towards the Diner, Jess noticed Rory sitting in the gazebo reading. When she noticed he was looking her way, she just smirked at him.

"That was some town meeting, huh?" Dana asked Jess as they walked down the streets of Stars Hollow.

"Yeah, I really felt sorry for Luke. It was like the town really did come at him with torches and pitchforks. All about Rory. Mom was really cool, though. Taking up for him and all."

"Even though Taylor had lettuce problems." He laughed at her joke. He liked that she was trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, I've gotta stop by the market."

"But it's your day off." He reminded her.

"Yeah, it's to get my paycheck. If I don't get it by closing time, Taylor locks it in a safe and its on some kind of timer and when I complain, he lectures me about promptly putting checks in the back and the theories of compound interest, and then my head starts to hurt from all the nodding I do even though I don't listen . . ."

"Go. Go!" He told her.

She smiled, "I'll just be a minute."

He watched her go into the market, but he did not see the female that come up from behind him.

"Should you let your girlfriend go inside alone? I hear this is a pretty dangerous corner."

"She'll be fine." He stated.

"Feeling succinct today?" She asked him.

"Pretty much."

"Hmm. Did I do something to offend?" Rory asked, sincerely.

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Good."

He exhaled. "You might wanna ask Luke the same question though."

She raised her eyebrows. "Meaning?"

"You've got this whole town down on him."

"Really? How did I do that?"

"You know how you did that."

"I'm not really familiar with the blue book laws of this town, so you can be talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm in arm with the opposite sex on a Sunday...."

Jess pointed to the chalk lines on the sidewalk.

"Ah, what about?"

"You did it, Rory! The whole town knows you did it. They had a meeting about it."

"You actually went to that bizarro town meeting. Those things are so _To Kill A Mockingbird_."

"Yes, I went. Mom went. And Luke went. And when he got there, they all ganged up on him. They all want you gone."

"Wow, bummer."

"And he's standing there yelling at everyone and defending you and paying Taylor back for his lettuce losses . . ."

"Wait, his what?"

"And now Luke's a pariah and its all because of you! What a shock, you don't care about any of this."

"I didn't say that."

"Go. I'm tired of talking to you."

She started to walk away, but stopped when he heard his voice again.

"You care nothing about Luke and his feelings!"

"Got a second wind, huh?"

"All he does is stick up for you and all you do is make his life harder. I guess that's what you have to do when you're trying to be the female equivalent of Holden Caulfield, but I think it sucks! Luke has done a lot for me and my mom and I don't like to see him attacked. Okay, second wind over." He put a hand to his chest, glad that he got that out.

"I didn't know they were coming down so hard on him."

"Funny, I never pegged you for Cher Horowitz either, my mistake.

" Okay, I get it. I really do, but did you at least think it was funny?"

"That's so far from the point!" He exclaimed.

"You thought it was funny!" She smirked at him.

"Maybe a little. I thought Taylor was gonna pounce on Bootsy." He cracked a smile.

So did she. "I met your friend Lane today. She's cool. Punk fan, I assume."

"She's tried on purpose to get lost in a supermarket before." He replied, hopefully she would get his subtle reference.

"_London Calling_. The Clash. Excellent choice,"

There was a pause.

"Can I ask you something else, Jess?"

"Sure." He answered.

"Did you take up for me at the town meeting?" She asked him.

He thought for a minute. Honesty was the best policy. "Yes."

So? I was definitely recognizable wasn't it? However, the ending was my own creation. Also, I know you're all thinking that I opened a can of worms with Paris, but that just creates more drama. Don't you think? Anyway, I hoped you like it! Please review! I love and need them . . .like the Gilmores need coffee.


	5. Basketcase

A/N: Chapter 5 is underway. I would like to thank you all for your positive reviews. I also loved the constructive criticism. I realized I used a lot of the original lines from the show last chapter, but I did it on purpose. I felt the conversation between Jess and Rory at the end was a key turning point in their relationship, and I felt that Amy Sherman-Palladino did it better than I ever could. I'm also glad you liked the can-of-worms that I opened between Jess and Paris. That conflict will reappear very soon. I promise! Anyway, the plot for this chapter comes from _A-Tisket, A-Tasket_, but the content is very different. You'll see.

Disclaimer: We've already covered this. Oh, Milo . . .

On with the story . . .

She had the stealth of an alley cat creeping into his room. It was almost completely silent. Her pink, fuzzy slippers, matching her favorite _I Love Lucy_ pajamas of course, made little noise on the wooden floors. She stood at the foot of his bed and smiled; her baby boy was growing up. Somehow, during the night, his comforter had been hurled haphazardly, revealing his bare chest, abdomen, and the elastic waistband of his plaid boxers. Lorelai then curled up on the bed beside him. Her weight caused the bed to creak and his eyelids to flutter.

"Mom?" He said, his voice still masked with sleep.

" Rise and Shine! Momma needs her coffee!" Lorelai exclaimed, oddly perky for such an early hour, especially on a Saturday.

He leaned over to get a glimpse of the digital alarm clock that sat on his night stand. When he saw that the bright, red numbers read 8:32 A.M., he huffed loudly with disgust, curled back into a ball, and pulled the blanket over his head.

"Go away!" He demanded, never being a morning person.

Frustrated from her lack of caffeine, she uncovered his head. "Get up! We have to go to Luke's. I need coffee and hashbrowns."

"You need to be committed! Now, go back to bed." Jess pleaded, running a hand through his mussed, dark hair.

"Please! Pretty Please! I'll let you pick the movie tonight. Oh, we can watch _Say Anything _again! John Cusack and that boom box? Never gets old. Or we could watch a comedy . . . _Fast Times At Ridgemont High_! Let's add _Almost Famous_ and make it a Cameron Crowe night!" She rambled, quite successfully. She knew if she chattered on that he would eventually grow annoyed and get up.

"Fine! You win! " He exclaimed, groggy and irritated by his mother's early-morning antics. "I'm up!"

"Jeez! Boys are crabby!" Lorelai opined, pulling herself up from the bed.

"Especially when they have their demented mothers come into their rooms at the crack of dawn yammering about greasy, fried potatoes and Peter Gabriel." He replied, stretching to pop his back and neck to remove the tightness caused by sleeping in the fetal position.

She glared, unamused. " You know, I have every right to go _Mommy, Dearest _on your ass, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Right. You, Lucy, Ethel, and what army?"

Lorelai gawked. "I'll have you know that these are perfectly respectable PJ's."

"As opposed to your silk, leopard printed or _Strawberry Shortcake_ ones?"

She huffed. "You're mean!"

"Cry me a river. Go get dressed so we can go to Luke's."

"You mean I can't wear Lucy and Ethel to the Diner?" She gasped, melodramatically.

He, once again, rolled his eyes as Lorelai sauntered out of his room. He then got out of bed to dress for the day

* * *

"Isn't it a beautiful morning?" Lorelai mused for the citizens of Stars Hollow, as she and Jess made their way to the counter at Luke's Diner.

"Marsha Brady eat her heart out!" Rory, who was minding the Diner while Luke was on an errand-run, dead panned, pouring their coffee.

Jess intervened. "She's just happy because today is the annual basket auction, and Luke actually agreed to bid on her basket this year."

Rory raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me, What?"

"The basket auction. Every year the women of Stars Hollow make picnic baskets, which are auctioned off to the men. Whoever gets the highest bid eats lunch with whoever made the lunch in the basket. It's neat!" Lorelai explained.

Rory had never looked more skeptical. "So," she glared at Lorelai, "you're like Elizabeth Bennett searching for Mr. Darcy, but still, at the end of the afternoon, he's still a cocky bastard, and you're still single?"

Jess smirked at his mother. "She speaks the truth."

She growled playfully. "Demon child!"

He chuckled, turning his attention back to Rory. "Anyway, are you going to prepare a basket?"

Rory glared at him like he had lost all touch with reality. "You're not serious? Only to have my PB&J's bid on by Kirk or some pimple-faced, trombone geek in the marching band? Fat chance!"

He grinned. "Hey, Dana said Chuck Presby has a thing for you; so, who knows?"

"Someone should castrate him."

Jess gulped. " I am a guy. You do realize that, right?"

She just rolled her eyes at his insecurity.

* * *

Luke Danes jumped at the sound of a crash that seemed to be coming from the Diner. He rushed downstairs and into the kitchen. Luke then raised his eyebrows at the sight before him.

"Sorry," She told him, slightly embarrassed, " Dropped my spatula."

He peered at the contents of the frying pan. "You're frying bacon?"

"Maybe."

He sighed. She was going back to being vague and monosyllabic.

"For what?"

"Well, Al brought in a pig to slaughter earlier, and I thought, 'What the hell?'" she replied, never losing her sarcasm.

"Smartass. Why are you frying bacon? There isn't anyone here. Everyone is preparing for the auction. There is no reason for you . . ."

Luke glanced over at the counter. There sat a medium-sized basket. Inside was a stainless thermos, a container of sour cream and onion Pringles, a box of Cheese Nips, as well as a box of Malimars. Soon, he realized, there would be two bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. He then had an epiphany — these were all Jess' favorites.

"Oh, No!!" Luke exclaimed. He mentally kicked himself for not seeing this before now.

"You can't tell me what to do." She stated, forever having problems with authority.

"The only reason why you want to participate in this ridiculous, little town tradition is because you have this girly crush on Jess!"

She snarled. "You're insane!"

"I don't think I am."

"Even if I did, which I don't, it's none of your friggen business so stay the hell out of it!"

Luke let out his infamous grunt and walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

"Next up for bidding is this lovely," Taylor Doose announced, holding up a basket with a large, pink bow, " Looks like there's homemade chocolate-chip cookies and a quiche inside. We'll start the bidding at five dollars. Do I have five dollars?"

"Who would eat quiche?" Lorelai whispered to her son. Both were standing amongst the crowd in the square.

"Apparently Dana." He muttered back, smiling at his girlfriend who winked at him, signifying that this was her basket.

"Who's got five dollars?" Taylor asked again.

"Five dollars!" Kirk yelled from the crowd.

"Five dollars! I've got five dollars! Who has ten dollars?"

"Ten dollars!" Jess cried, no matter how much he despised quiche.

"Fifteen dollars!" Kirk challenged.

"Twenty dollars."

"Thirty!"

"Forty!"

"I've got forty dollars! Who will give me forty-five?" Taylor asked once again.

"Fifty!" Kirk yelled.

This imbecile was making Jess angry. This was _his_ girlfriend!

"Sixty!" Jess countered.

"Seventy!"

"Seventy-five!"

Jess looked in his wallet. He was out of cash.

"One-hundred dollars!" Kirk exclaimed, completely determined.

"Mom, help! I don't have any more money!"

"Have no fear!" Lorelai began digging through her purse. She first pulled out two Ones and gave them to him. "A gum wrapper," she threw it out, "a receipt from Rue 21," she threw it out, "one of those evergreen car air-freshener thingies. How did I get one of those?" She threw the tree-shaped item on the ground. "Ooh! Here's a ten and some change!" She handed him the money and continued to sort through her bag.

"One-hundred going once, going twice . . ." Taylor was about to end the bidding.

"Mom hurry!"

Lorelai gasped. "Would you look at that? My Very Berry M.A.C. lipstick! I've been looking for this for a month!"

"MOTHER!"

"SOLD to Kirk for one-hundred dollars!" Taylor hit the podium with his gavel, and the bidding was officially over.

With a huge grin on his face Kirk went to claim his prize . . .lunch with Dana. "Yea! Quiche is my favorite! I hope its as good as Mother's."

"Kirk!" Jess cried, annoyed to no end. "What the hell?"

He just looked at Jess curiously.

"That was Dana's basket! You know, Dana? Dana Forrester? My girlfriend Dana?!"

Kirk bowed his head guiltily. "I . .like quiche."

Dana then walked over to the two men. "Can we talk about this?"

"No! I won the quiche fair and square! I outbid Jess." Kirk whined.

"Kirk, you can keep the quiche. Jess and I will eat something else. Just let us eat lunch together." Dana haggled.

"Dana, that's breaking tradition!"

She glared at him. "What are you talking about, Jess?"

"You have to eat lunch with whomever the highest bidder is. Those are the rules. Dana, we can't break the rules!"

"Jess, you actually want me to eat lunch with Kirk!" She was growing exasperated.

"No, but there's nothing we can do about it."

She sighed feeling completely defenseless, knowing that arguing with him was pointless.

"Fine!" She firmly grabbed Kirk by the arm. "Let's go have lunch Kirk!"

She marched off with a firm grip on Kirk, who was staring at Jess like a sad puppy hoping that he would save him. Jess just walked off towards his mother.

"I'm sorry, kiddo." Lorelai empathized.

"It's okay. I hate quiche." He muttered. Then, he glanced sideways and something caught his eye. Or someone. He saw Rory crossing the street from the Diner to join the crowd in the square. He laughed inwardly. Earlier that day, when he asked her about coming to the auction, her words were "Not a snowball's chance in hell, Gilmore." He then turned to Taylor who was bringing out the next basket. The bidding was going to start at five dollars.

"Five dollars." A voice called from the crowd.

He turned and looked at Rory again, who saw him and smirked. He raised his eyebrows and she smiled. It was her basket.

"Five dollars! Do I have ten dollars?"

He was about to speak up when he heard a familiar voice perk up.

"Twenty dollars!" It was Chuck Presby. He hated Chuck Presby.

"Well," Taylor chuckled, "I have twenty dollars. Will someone give me twenty-five?"

He wasn't sure why, whether he was trying to compete with Chuck or what, but in a flare of rage, Jess spoke completely irrationally. "Eighty-seven dollars and . . .thirty-one . . .two . . .three . . . thirty-three cents. Eighty-seven dollars and thirty-three cents!" It was all the money he had on him. His mother spun her head around like he had lost his mind, so did Rory, so did the entire town.

"That's quite an interesting bid! I have eighty-seven dollars and thirty-three cents going once . . .twice . . .sold to Jess for eighty-seven dollars and thirty-three cents."

"You didn't have to do that." Rory told him, meeting Jess when he got her basket from Taylor.

"That's okay. I wanted to. Chuck Presby is an asshole." He replied bluntly.

She chuckled. "That's true. I admire your brutal honesty."

"Thanks. Let's go eat. You know how much I love Cheese Nips and Malimars."

"Yes, I do." She laughed as the two walked towards there favorite spot, the bridge, with the whole town watching them as they left.

* * *

"Come on! You've gotta pick!" He insisted.

"Nope. Impossible. That's like picking your favorite movie or favorite flavor of Ben and Jerry's."

He smirked. "_Scarface _and Cherry Garcia."

"'Well, say 'ello to my lit'le friend.'" She quoted in her best Pacino accent.

"Please! Favorite song? You've got to have a favorite song!"

"I told you it's too hard to pick, but if I must, it's a tie between _Ziggy Stardust_, _Guns of Brixton_, and _Stairway to Heaven_."

"Bowie, The Clash, and Zeppelin? From a girl? You are my new best friend!"

"I like what I like. That's including Sex Pistols, Johnny Cash, and Smashing Pumpkins."

"Cool on the Pistols. Cash is an icon, but Billy Corgan? What were you thinking?"

"That he's a song-writing genius. You just can't see the obvious."

"Obvious that he whines too damn much! More so than an indie record."

She grimaced."Not to sound like a Valley girl, but emo? Gag me with a spoon!"

"Just because you can't appreciate Death Cab, the Thrills, and Sno Patrol doesn't mean that their music isn't worth giving a try."

"Whatever. You can just go on and listen to your Dashboard Confessional. Emo, please. The only thing that bothers me more is all that Joan Baez, Dave Clark Five sixties folk shit. All they had to say was let's stop the war in Vietnam with flowers and loving everybody and holding hands!" She exclaimed, grabbing his hand for effect.

When she realized what she had done, they looked at each other, two sets of eyes dilated, neither of them wanting to let go.

* * *

Well? What did you think? I hope you liked it. I've been so happy with the great response. I would love it if you would all continue. In other words, R/R. Peace and love — moi.


	6. Ditch Her

A/N: This chapter is all my own doing. There is not a single line from an actual episode. Be proud of me! Anyway, I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, but remember, I do own Milo! Yeah, I'm not lying :looks guiltily at my shoes: I don't own _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ either, no matter how much I wish I did! I do own the soundtrack! Confused? Read the chapter and you won't be.

On with the story . . .

They meandered to the door at their own pace, chatting as usual and, fashionably so, according to Lorelai, ten minutes late. It was Friday night, and that could only mean one thing - dinner with the Grandparents. Knocking on the gigantic, wooden door, the mother and son duo waited for the maid to answer the door.

"Ah, you're here. Mr. Gilmore has been expecting you." the timid girl told them.

"Thank you, Bertha." Lorelai said politely, as they walked into the fourier.

The girl shook her head lightly. "My name is Greta, Ma'am."

Jess rolled his eyes. "Another maid?"

"What was wrong with Bertha, I wonder?" Lorelai queried, partially to Jess and partially to herself. "She probably forgot to put raisins in the salad or brought out the wrong wine or brought out dinner at 6:58 instead of seven sharp."

Greta looked at them, fear in her eyes.

"Oh, I was halfway kidding! I'm sure you'll do just fine." She encouraged, as the girl, nearly scared have to death, walked briskly back into the kitchen.

"That was insensitive." Jess told her, as they made their way into the living room. When they arrived, the two were greeted by a silver-haired man with a warm smile and a bow-tie.

"Lorelai!" Richard Gilmore exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his daughter and giving her a kiss on the chick. "And Jess, how's my favorite grandson?"

"I'm your only grandson. Where's Grandma?"

"Oh, she had some Garden Club event this evening. She apologizes for not being here, but said she would call you during the week to catch up. So, Jess, read any good books lately?"

"So, Dad, learned any new dance moves lately?" Lorelai couldn't resist.

While she chuckled at her own joke, her father gave her a pointed glare; one that said, 'We will no longer bring that tape up in public ever again.' Jess took that as an indication to just continue the conversation and answer his question.

"Actually, Grandpa, a friend of mine has me reading Ayn Rand. _The Fountain Head_. You'd think it would be wonderful, but she's more of a babbling political psycho. It's quite the interesting read though." Jess smiled to himself. He might be reading Rand, but Rory was so reading _A Farewell to Arms_.

"I'll have to agree with you on that. The part about Ayn Rand being the psycho, I mean." He liked it when he and his grandfather felt the same about a subject, especially when it came to books.

"Right. So, you said Tuesday on the phone that you had something to tell me, but you couldn't say it over the phone. We're in person now." Jess reminded, oddly curious.

"Oh, yes," Richard exclaimed, obviously excited, "A friend of mine from my days with the Whiffenpoofs called me the other day. However, he's no longer a Yale man. He's a Harvard man, to be precise. In fact, he's the head of the English Literature department, and I told him about my wonderful grandson who's Harvard bound. He wants to meet you! Isn't that fabulous?"

Lorelai immediately perked up at her father's cooperativeness about Jess going to Harvard instead of his alma mater. "Dad, that's great! Isn't that great, Honey?" She nudged his shoulder to get a response.

"Yeah." He was in complete euphoria . . .or denial. Whatever it was, he was glad. "That's awesome!"

"So, you want me to call him back and set up a meeting?" Richard asked.

He grinned. "Absolutely."

* * *

"Yellow?" Luke said, picking up the phone in the Diner while throwing a dish rag over his shoulder. 

"Yes, may I speak with Luke Danes, please." The voice asked. From the way it sounded, he assumed it was a woman.

"This is he."

"Mr. Danes, this is Sonya Anderson. The guidance counselor at Stars Hollow High. I apologize for calling you at your place of business, but I didn't want to call you extremely late. Rumor has it, you're an early bird. Anyway, I wanted to talk with you about your niece. Rory? She's recently come to live with you, correct?"

Luke sighed, knowing fully well that he was about to hear bad news. With Rory, it always was. "Yeah, that's right. What about it?"

"Well, what has she been doing during the day?"

He raised his eyebrows, as if the woman could see his wry expression over the phone. "What do you mean? She goes to school and then works at the Diner in the afternoons."

"I beg to differ." She replied.

"Huh?" Luke mentally kicked himself for sounding like such a barbarian, or his niece, whichever worked.

"Rory has missed a total of twelve days in the past month. More in the previous month."

"You mean, she's been skipping school"

"Apparently so."

Luke grunted in the phone. "Dammit! I mean, darn it! I mean, what can I do? I'm her uncle not her babysitter."

"Well, you're going to have to do something soon. If you don't, she's going to fail. That includes Economics, Chemistry, and English Lit."

He was shocked. "English Lit? She gobbles up books, page by page, more than anyone I've ever seen! Now, she's reading some book called _Crime and Punishment_ by some Russian dude! I can't even pronounce his name! Dost . . .Dosto . . .oh, hell!"

"Dostoevsky?" Mrs. Anderson suggested, trying desperately not to laugh at his inability to enunciate.

"That's it! Mrs. Anderson, why would she be failing Literature?"

"Call me Sonya. My guess is that she's bored. Her class is reading Steinbeck right now. _The Grapes of Wrath_, I assume she's read it?"

"I believe so. She has her own copy."

"Precisely. This is adolescent reading to true readers like Rory. Rory reads for pleasure not to pass a test. She's not feeling challenged; therein, doesn't feel like its worth her time. Frankly, she's too smart."

"What do I do?" Luke asked her, genuinely feeling like he was at a stalemate.

"My advice? Get her a _tutor_. Someone who is at her intellectual level. This will insult her, hopefully enough to give school work a second glance."

"Thanks, Sonya. I really appreciate this."

"No problem. And Luke? Call me if you need anything. She's a smart girl. You just have to know how to handle her."

"Thanks again. Buh-bye." With that, they hung up.

He shook his head and punched a gripped fist into his palm. She was going to get it when she got home.

* * *

He sighed loudly as she continued to ramble something about _The_ _Franklin_. He knew that when Paris got on a tangent, chasing an entire family of rabbits back three generations, no one could stop her. 

"So, the article is due next Wednesday. You got everything?" She asked sternly. "Jess?" Her tone knocked him out of his reverie.

"Oh, yeah, Got it. School play. _Good-Bye Girl_. Neil Simon. Gotcha."

It was Monday. He despised Monday, especially since this was the day that Paris was even more anal than any other day. Apparently a weekend spent playing Scrabble with her Portuguese nanny and reading _The Iliad_ for the umpteenth time made her incredibly cranky and barely tolerable. Nevertheless, this was Paris who was a character flaw in herself. Then, just as Paris mentioned referencing Simon in the article, Tristan and his imbecilic sidekicks, Duncan and Bowman, entered into the conversation, smirking as per usual.

"Dude, Jess!" Tristan exclaimed "there's this hot chick outside, and she's asking for you."

The other two teenage boys chuckled. "And did he mention that she's totally hot!"

Jess smiled to himself- Dana. He then walked out to the Chilton student parking lot, with the other four teens in tow. When they reached the lot, he saw a familiar brunette rolling her eyes at Madeline and Louise who were drooling over the butterfly permanently needled onto her right forearm.

"That is so sexy!" Madeline replied, running her fingers over its wings.

"It hurt like hell though, but worth it." She informed them, tucking a strand a hair, which was in its natural state -messy waves, behind her ear.

"What are you doing here?" Jess asked, with wide smirk. She immediately turned at the sound of his voice.

"Oh, just visiting a friend to see if he wanted to ditch and see a movie. Wednesday Adams and Malibu Barbie here were just keeping me company while Moe, Larry, and Curly went inside to get you." She replied, nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Before he could lecture her about ditching school, and how Luke would kill them both if he found out, especially after the haranguing she received Friday night, Tristan smiled at Rory and handed her a tiny index card.

"Tristan Dugrey. Call me!" He gave her his best one-hundred watt lightbulb smile. Rory,on the other hand, looked as if she was ready to puke.

"Rory Mariano. Touch me and die!" She mocked his faux enthusiasm, and Jess just laughed at Tristan's naivety.

"Ooh, a feisty one." He quipped, ignoring her threat.

She was growing annoyed. She then reached into the rolled-down window of Luke's truck, which she took without permission, and grabbed a cigarette from her pack of Marlboro Lights and her lighter. Lighting it, she sucked softly at its end before taking a much-needed drag.

"Gilmore, are we going or not?" She inquired with an odd sense of urgency.

"You mean, skip Calculus to go see _Some Kind of Wonderful_, which we've both seen an innumerable amount of times, and I saw before leaving the womb?"

She chuckled. "But you're gonna go, right?" She took another drag.

"Why miss a chance to throw peanut butter MM's at neurotic usher-boy Leonard and his magic flashlight!"

"True. Although, it should be Jordan Almonds this time. He might not be able to point us out if there's a candy change."

"You are very wise, my friend." Jess complemented, as he walked around to get in the passenger side of the truck.

He loosened his tie and shed his navy blazer while she hopped into the driver's seat. As she cranked up the engine, turned up the Ramone's who were blasting on the radio, and flicked the ashes out her window, Jess leaned out his own window and yelled to Paris.

"Take good notes."

Paris frowned as they pulled out of the parking lot. She stood there until _I Wanna Be Sedated_ was no longer audible. She felt like just his academic fall-back. If he needed notes, she always had them. She had thought they were friends, but here he was, ditching school for some girl with a tattoo. Nevertheless, she was going to take good notes, and she would give them to him no matter what her gut told her. Maybe, she thought, I should get a tattoo and pick up smoking.

* * *

The moon shown brightly on the streets of Stars Hollow when they returned from Hartford. They had an incredible day. They did, in fact, go to see _Some Kind of Wonderful_ and_ Rocky Horror Picture Show_ after that. He had tried to keep her from listening to the movie's soundtrack all the way to the theater and back, but she had insisted. And he couldn8217;t believe she knew every word to _Dammit Janet_ and _I Can Make You A Man_. They had also explored many of the finest book stores Hartford had to offer. She had bought a hard-back of _The Bell Jar_, and He a copy of _The Return of the King_, finishing his Tolkein collection. When they returned from their spontaneous adventure, they pulled Luke's truck in its usual spot. As they got out, Jess was thinking the entire time that Luke was definitely going to kick her ass or throw her in the lake, whichever came first. 

"I had the best time today." She blurted, then covered her mouth self-consciously.

He grinned. "It's okay. I promise I won't tell. I know you have a reputation to uphold. One that definitely doesn't entitle you to sing _Rose Tint My World_ a lá Whitney Houston."

She blushed. "That was only for you. You tell, and I'll think of some creative way to mention to Miss Patty that you secretly want to take ballet lessons."

"You wouldn't?"

She gave him a devious grin. "Oh, wouldn't I?"

"Bye Rory!" He started walking away from her.

"I mean it, Jess! One word and you're in tights."

"Robin Hood wore tights."

"Yeah, so do male ice skaters!" She yelled back.

She held a lingering smile, watching him walk home, and then went inside.

* * *

"So, that's where you've been all afternoon." A voice replied, as he walked up the stairs. 

He turned around to see Dana standing in his yard.

"Hey!" He walked down to meet her. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I could have been waiting for you to come off the bus all afternoon, but I didn't. Funny thing is you never would have come off the bus considering you were with Rory."

He looked down at his shoes. She had seen them in front of Luke's. " She's my friend, Dana. She came after school, asked if I wanted to go see a movie, we did, went to Starbucks on the way home, and that was it." He lied right through his teeth.

"What movie did you go see?" She inquired, holding her arms akimbo.

"_Rocky Horror_." He sighed, knowing it felt good to tell the truth.

She was becoming frustrated and rolled her eyes disgust.

"Jealousy doesn't exactly become you, Sweets." He told her.

"I'm sorry, Jess! I can't help but think that there is something going on there! I've seen the way she looks at you. At the Diner, At the bookstore, basically everywhere in Stars Hollow. I can't believe you can't see it!"

"See what?" He asked genuinely.

"Her looking at you like a cheap porn flick."

"Oh, that's utterly ridiculous. I've told you a million times that we're just friends. Plus, if she wanted to see porn, she could just go pick up a bootleg of _Deep Throat_!" He added the last part to ease the obvious tension in the air.

"You know what I mean. She likes you! I know when a girl has feelings. Woman's intuition."

"I think you're wrong."

"I don't think I am. In the meantime, I don't think I like you hanging out with her."

"What!" He snapped.

"I just . . .I wish you wouldn't see her all the time. It gives me thoughts I don't like. Paranoid thoughts. So, please, stay away from her for the time being. For me?"

"You can't tell me whom I can and cannot be friends with!" He was growing angry.

"I'm just trying to save our relationship! You know, the one we've had for over a year!"

"Well, maybe, if you're paranoid about everything in a skirt, then maybe it isn't worth saving!" He stormed on the porch, let himself inside the house, and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

So? That's it for chapter 6. I hoped you liked it. I know I left a lot of things open for discussion, but, that was the point. They will all be taken care of in chapter 7. The chapter in which I will handle that little episode called _Teach Me Tonight_. Remember that episode? Yeah, thought you did. Soon I will also be tackling a little episode called _They Shoot Gilmores, Don't They?_ I will tell you that in my version, Lorelai wins! Poor Kirk. Anyway, please review. I love them all! I need them all! You're all my bitches! In other words, R/R. Peace and Love- moi. 


	7. Knowledge is Fundamental

A/N: Okay, So I lied. This chapter is a combination of _There's a Rub_ and _Teach Me, Tonight_. Odd, I know, but trust me, I think its worth reading. The end is kind of a cliffhanger so don't hurt me. I want to thank you for all of your reviews, constructive and praising. You all mean so much to me! Again, I wanna apologize for the problems with chapter 6. If you haven't read the revised version. Please do so! Finally, R/R.

Disclaimer: Milo says that I only own him! In the words of the Girls, "Dirty!"

So, without further ado . . . .

"' _If you really want to hear about it, the first you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth . . ._'"

Lorelai and Jess smirked widely, yet silently watched with amusement as Luke struggled through the famous sentence. The two observed the man in flannel intently as he grimaced, raised his eyebrows, and read the words wide-eyed.

"I believe they call that pensive-face." Whispered Lorelai, quite loudly to her son.

Jess chuckled. "He'll brood some more when Holden Caulfield starts skipping through the wheat fields."

She smiled at his joke before looking back to Luke, who had finally acknowledged their presence, but still tried to ignore them. Nevertheless, no one could ignore the Gilmores', especially the elder, female Gilmore.

"Jeez, can't a man read a book in private without being ridiculed and distracted!" He out-bursted, as if he was actually angry that his most reliable customers were interrupting his reading.

They grinned, always entertained by Luke Danes' melodrama, and Jess spoke first. "Not to question your motives or anything, Luke, but you do know you're reading Salinger and not this month's issue of _MAD_, right? Alfred E. Newman would be crushed!"

He peered at them over the spine, obviously unamused.

"But, Luke, he would never desert Alfie! Alfie is crying because you're trying to replace him with that damned Caulfield and his fascination with children and sex. I just don't think Alfie's a pedophile, Luke." Lorelai quipped.

"Mom, don't ruin the book for him! It could be self-help for him. He might learn to like kids or go on a date for the first time in . . .how long has it been, Luke? Over a year?"

Luke scowled. "Would you two leave me alone! Rory caught me reading _The Firm_, and she was disgusted that I would actually consider John Grisham. She tossed me this and said, and I quote, you'll like it. He'll remind you of me."

Jess smiled. "Rory? Act like Holden Caulfield? Never!"

He rolled his eyes at the teens sarcasm. " While I've got your attention, Smartass, can I ask you a favor?"

"I'm not giving you the Cliffs Notes for _Catcher in the Rye_ just so you can deceive Rory into actually believing you read it."

Luke rubbed his stubbled chin and leaned over onto his elbows to get closer. " I want you to tutor Rory."

Then, it was Jess who grew pensive for a moment. "What?"

"Thursday nights. Her guidance counselor says she needs some academic motivation. She likes you. She hates everybody in this town except you. I think she'll listen to you."

Lorelai interrupted, worried as to what Luke was getting her son into. "Luke, I don't think this is such a good idea. Jess has his own studying to do. Chilton and _The Franklin_ and Dana keep him busy enough as it is. I don't think he needs tutoring sessions with Rory to add to his already extremely long list."

She secretly hoped that she didn't sound too pessimistic. She was honestly worried about her son. Nope, the idea that it was Rory that he would be tutoring didn't factor in at all. Nope, not one little bit.

"Look, just one night a week, Lor." He begged, inwardly trying to come up with something that would convince her to allow her son to tutor his niece. What does Lorelai love? The Bangles. _Highway to Hell. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_. Shoes. Sour Patch Kids. Coffee. Coffee? Coffee! "And I'll throw in free coffee until Rory gets her grades up!"

Lorelai and Jess both grinned like idiots. "Well, that's a horse of a different color!" She quoted, never refusing free coffee. She would never!

"On one condition, other than the coffee, of course." Jess added.

Luke hissed. "God, I'll throw in free cherry danishes on Danish Day. I'm desperate, Jess!"

"No! That's not what I meant. I don't need a cherry danish," He realized what he was saying, " What a minute? Did you just say free danishes?"

"Yes! Free Danish! What else do you want?"

He smirked at the elder man behind the counter. He picked up the book he had previously lain on the counter. "I want you to finish the book. She's right. It's a total classic. Everyone should read it."

He snatched the book from his hands and put it back on the counter. He then grabbed two coffee cups and poured them their regular fix. He set the full mugs before them before going back to the novel and flipping it to the first page once more. And, for one morning, the two sat in silence. Luke then settled on his stool and perused until finding the spot where he left off.

"' _. . . In the first place, that stuff bores me, and in the second place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They're quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father. They're nice and all — I'm not saying that — but they're also touchy as hell . . ._'"

* * *

"So," Walker paused, crossing the front of the room, relentlessly like the Energizer Bunny, " What do you Orwell meant? That it was a room full of humans? Had Napoleon and the rest of the animals turned into animals all in one magic moment?" 

"Who cares?" A voice called from the din of students. "Yeah!" Another voice agreed. "Why are we studying about animals anyways? This is literature!" A student asked.

Rory had just about had enough. She looked up from her copy of _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead_. These students' comments were about to cause her to crack.

"Of course, it's literature. But Orwell was writing about more than just a bunch of barnyard animals that had intelligence and could talk. Oh, no he was trying to get the reader to look beyond the surface. Are any of you looking beyond the surface?"

"Beyond what surface? All I see is animals." A student answered.

She had officially been cracked. "Of course you do 'cause you're a moron!" She exclaimed, slamming her book on the desk top.

Mr. Walker's and the students' eyes fell upon her.

"Explain, Miss Mariano." He stated, waiting for her to respond.

"Yeah, New York!" She hated it when people called her that. Just because she was born and grew up in the City doesn't mean that it was engraved on her birth certificate.

"Gladly!" She snarled, turning towards the obvious jock that she had know clue what sport he played or what his name was. "I'll try to speak in small sentences using small words so you're able to understand what I'm saying. George Orwell was a political writer. Most people, and I mean not including you, know this fact before reading _Animal Farm_. The pigs, Napoleon, Squealer, et cetera, represented the leaders of the _Totalitarian Dictatorship_! Oops, I'm sorry. I spoke in more than three syllables at the time. I won't do it again, I promise. As I was saying, The pigs were those mean, scary men named Lenin, Stalin, and Trotsky. Those names ring any bells? Yeah. Orwell was criticizing the Totalitarian State by saying that the inhumane beliefs of these nasty men were animalistic! That they should be treated like the animals they are! Does that clear anything up for you!"

Mr. Walker's eyes looked as if he had just returned from a visit to the eye doctor. This was possibly the first time he had ever heard this girl speak in full sentences let along a huge monologue about George Orwell, maybe he had underestimated this girl. He realized, she wasn't ignorant. She just didn't care.

"My, Rory," he finally said, breaking the total silence in the room, "That's very good. Very good. Can you tell us anything else about _Animal Farm_?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know really. There was something about a windmill, and Four legs being good and two being bad or something like that." Her facial expression once again became indifferent, and she crouched back into her desk, pulling out her Stoppard play once more to read.

Just before Walker was about to respond, a knock at the door came. He muttered for whomever it was to enter, and Kirk walked into the classroom carrying a bouquet of a dozen red, long-stemmed roses. Sticking out on one of the florists' nifty tools was a white card with Dana Forrester's name written on it. She blushed when he sat the flowers on her desk. Kirk then excused himself while the girl's 'ooh'-ed and 'aww'-ed over the beautiful flora.

A myriad of calls could be heard. Who sent them? What's the occasion? Was it her birthday? Smiling, Dana opened the tiny envelope and pulled out the card.

_That night when joy began_

_Our narrowest veins to flush, _

_we waited for the flash_

_of morning's leveled gun. _

_But morning let us pass, _

_And day by day relief_

_Outgrows his nervous laugh, _

_Grown credulous of peace, _

_As mile by mile is seen _

_No trespasser's reproach, _

_And love's best glasses reach _

_No field's but are his own. _

_I'm sorry, and I love you_

_- Jess - _

"What's it say?" A female voice beside Dana asked.

She smiled, her complectionglowing warmly, and recitedwords written on the card.

"Auden."

The group of giggling girls turned towards Rory, glaring at her as if she'd told one of their secrets. Something taboo

"Auden," Rory repeated, "The poem. It's _That Night When Joy Began _by W. H. Auden. He's one of my favorites. Poets, I mean."

One of Dana's friends spoke, "Well, what does that _love's best glasses _line mean? I think it's pretty!" She gave her a toothy smile.

Rory rolled her eyes, retrieved a medium-sized hardbound from her bag, and tossed it on Dana's desk. "You figure it out."

The blonde looked down and read the title — _The Compact English Poet: 1830 - 1915. _

* * *

"Give me caffeine, Diner Man!" Lorelai playfully ordered, taking a stool in front of Luke Danes at the counter. 

He grunted, as usual, in response, but not before pouring her a large mug of regular. "I thought you were going to that spa with your mother."

She grimaced. "Don't remind me. She's picking me up in an hour. It's gonna be hell!"

"What? A nice, relaxing weekend at the spa enjoying mud wraps, seaweed salt scrubs, and some Swedish guy with huge arms muscles the size of watermelons giving you a rub down with some kind of scented oil? I can see a whole lot of screaming and gnashing of teeth going on."

"Right, well, while Gunter, my hunky Swedish masseur, is wrapping my body in seaweed, my mother's incessant yaps of why her Egyptian cotton towel isn't soft enough or how Gunter's brother, Yan, needs to move a little to the right will be in the background, completely drowning out _Kenny G 's Greatest Hits _that is sure to be blaring from the speakers above our heads."

He glared at her. "And on that note, I wanted to thank you for letting Jess tutor Rory tonight. Maybe he can knock some sense into her. She's been doing a lot better since the two of them have started hanging out. She's helping out more. Lane said she actually went to school today. And got into an argument with a football player about . . .I think she said pigs?"

Then, a sharp bell tolled above the door and the second Gilmore padded inside the Diner and sat down in the stool next to his mother.

"Ready for your big mother/daughter weekend?" He asked, smirking, then grabbed the mug Luke had poured for him, without even asking.

Lorelai scowled. "You think you're so funny? I could put you up for adoption."

"It's a hard-knock life, Mom!" He quipped, never losing his smirk.

"Thank you, Little Orphan Annie, and no, I'm not ready for my weekend! You think its so great. Missing out on Friday Night Dinner. You get to spend a leisurely few days studying, reading, spending time with your girlfriend, eating that God-awful _Sandeep's_ crap while watching a Monster Garage marathon! You try spending a weekend locked up in a hotel room with Emily Gilmore! You'd be praying for Rooster and Lily St. Regis to come kidnap you at anytime!"

He rolled his eyes. "Mom, Grandma is not that bad."

"Says Daddy Warbucks?" She joked.

"Whatever. So, Luke, is Rory upstairs? I was gonna ask her what time she wanted to get started."

He nodded, and Jess pulled back the curtain and walked up the stairwell, smiling as he heard the playful banter of the two adults he had just left. When he reached the door to the apartment, always curious as to why Luke still left it as Williams' Hardware's private office, he heard the familiar beginning bars of a punk anthem clamoring from the inside. He opened the door to a sight that turned his face a bright shade of crimson.

With a John Hersey classic in her left, _A Bell For Adano_, and a pencil in her right to jot down any necessary notes in the margins, she tapped her bare foot to the music and mouthed the words.

_"Breaking rocks in the hot sun, I fought the law, and the law won. I needed money 'cause I had none. I fought the law and the law won. I left my baby, and it feel so fine. I guess my race is run. She's the best girl that I ever had . . ." _

"I fought the law, and the law won?" Jess finished the line for her.

She turned her head away from the book, and noticing it was him, immediately stood from her lax position on the floor. He immediately felt the lump in his throat and trying desperately trying, unsuccessfully, to remove his gaze from the pink stripes in her underwear. His eyes moved from her bare feet, legs, and then stopped at the pink stripe. Eventually, his eyes moved to her upper body, clothed in a thin wife beater, to her unmake-upped face, her blue eyes covered in reading glasses with black rims, to her hair, balled in a messy bun on the top of her head with loose tendrils framing the side of her jaw. She looked completely all-natural and extremely beautiful.

"I didn't know you wore glasses." He finally said, breaking the silence.

She shrugged.

"I didn't know you read in your underwear either."

She blushed, looking at her feet self-consciously. "Yeah, well, you should try it. It's pretty cathartic."

"Kinda like burning bras?" He attempted.

"Rock on, Susan B. Anthony!" She exclaimed, throwing the Devil horns in the air. "You wanna hand me that skirt on the bed?" She pointed to the denim mini that had obviously been longer before she had gotten to it with a pair of scissors.

"So," She began, pulling the skirt from his hands and up her legs, " I hear you're gonna be doing a little teaching?"

"Maybe." He stated simply.

She then pointed to a grey Rolling Stones tee, inscribed with the famous Andy Warhol tongue, that had been laying next to the skirt. He handed it to her without words, and she slipped it on over the tank.

She smiled, satisfied. "So, now that I'm fully dressed, will you please be a little less vague and say what time you want this little tutoring session to begin?"

"Whatever is good for you."

"So never?" She chastened, throwing a hand in the air for added effect.

"Rory, be serious." He replied, putting on his sedulous mask.

"Jess, why is school all that important?" She was trying to avoid the subject.

"Why are you answering everything in the form of a question?"

She smirked. "I'll take "You're Easy to Play With" for a thousand, Alex!"

He rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Johnny Gilbert, but seriously, I'm doing this for Luke. I don't wanna disappoint him."

"What does Dana say about our study date?"

This floored him. He wasn't sure whether or not he should be offended.

"She doesn't know." He finally choked out the words.

She crossed her arms defensively and rolled her eyes before slipping on her suede Uggs and retreating out the apartment door. But before she left the room, Jess could have sworn that he had heard her mockingly reply, "Figures."

* * *

He was writing diligently in the notebook sitting on their kitchen table, but glanced back towards the textbook every so often to read and refer. Jess then looked up to see her shuffling a deck of cards. 

"You ever played Presidents and Assholes?" She asked, completely ignoring the literature book sitting in front of her.

He gave her a pointed glared.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, how 'bout poker? A little Texas hold 'em or five-card draw?"

He continued to peer at her.

"Go Fish?"

"Rory, you're supposed to be writing about _Othello_." He stated, taking the deck from her hands.

"I did write!" She exclaimed, handing him the piece of notebook paper.

He studied her words on the sheet before looking up at her unamused. "This isn't Shakespeare."

"It's not?" She replied innocently.

"These are lyrics to a Clash song."

"Ah, but which Clash song?" She challenged, leaning her elbows on the table.

"I thought I was the one doing the teaching."

She looked at her watch. "10, 9, 8 . ."

"You're supposed to be studying."

"7, 6, 5 . ."

"Rory."

"4, 3, 2 . ."

"Oh, Oh, _Guns of Brixton_!"

"A plus." She stated, taking the sheet of paper from his hands.

And then the doorbell rang. "I'll get the door, and you make yourself look like your reading _Othello_."

She smirked before he ambled through the living room to the door.

" I got an A minus. I've never gotten an A minus before." The girl standing on the porch told him.

"Paris, what are you doing here?" He asked, realizing he had not one but two girls in his presence.

"My parents are going through a nasty divorce. They argue. I can't concentrate. I make A minuses in Physics. I need you to help me study!"

To him, she had never seemed more vulnerable. "Paris . . ." His voice faltered. "Come on in. You can't stay long."

"Whatever, Gilmore." She followed him into the Gilmore house and eventually to the kitchen. Paris raised a questionable eyebrow when she discovered Rory sitting at the table with her nose, on what Jess assumed to be her forty-first time, behinda copy of _Howl_.

"Ginsberg? Surely you jest?"

Rory never looked up. She recognized the voice from her few moments spent at Chilton and didn't deem her question necessary for a response.

"Jess has told me a lot about you. You smoke and have a tattoo, but you're only real crime is that you like the Beats."

She finally looked up. "Kerouac's my bitch. What can I say?"

"So, Gary Snyder or Japhy Ryder, whoever you are, you read this crap about jazz or sex or soup, and I bet you've never picked up Jane Austen."

"Somehow, I prefer Carl Solomon over Mr. Darcy."

Jess decided he would interrupt their literature tiff. "Rory, what happened to Shakespeare?"

"He bored me. I bet his generation was destroyed by madness too, or maybe it was insanity. I'm not really sure." She deadpanned, placing the paperback she had just quoted on the table.

"Rory, as much I wish your test was on Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty, at least you've read about them fifty-thousand times, I'm sorry to say its not. Therefore, I would start brushing up on this, to quote what you said an hour ago, Elizabethan shit." Jess recommended, seriously wanting to give up.

"But, Jess, _everything belongs to me because I am poor_." She quoted, once again, smirking and crossing her arms.

He threw up his arms like someone would throw up a white flag, sat down in one of the unoccupied chairs, and gave a heavy sigh. Luke would have to find someone else to tutor her.

Just as the room grew still, he heard the front door swing open and then a familiar voice, soft but then grew louder as it drew closer.

"Jess? I let myself in with the key in the turtle. I know you said you were studying tonight, but I wanted to surprise you. I brought some food from Luke's. There's burgers, fries, mac and cheese . . ." The blonde stopped talking upon entrance to the kitchen.

There was an awkward, pregnant pause, and after what seemed like an hour of agonizing silence, Paris spoke. "You must be Dana! Paris Ghellar." She held out a rarely given friendly hand.

She plastered a fake grin on her lips. "Dana Forrester," She turned to her boyfriend, "Can I see you a minute? Alone!"

Without uttering a word, he followed her into the living room.

"What the hell!" She exclaimed.

"I'm sorry. Luke asked me to. I was doing him a favor. Paris just showed up."

"Luke asked you to do what?"

"Tutor Rory. I couldn't really say no to him. I've never been able to. I didn't tell you 'cause I didn't want you to make a big deal out of it which I knew you would."

"You're damn right I'm gonna make a big deal out of it! You chose to spend an evening tutoring her over spending the evening leisurely with me! Your girlfriend! Yeah, remember me?"

"I was just doing Luke a favor!" Jess exclaimed.

"Whatever, Jess. I'm leaving. _Study hard_!" She added the last part with such sarcasm, he thought he saw it oozing out of the corners of her mouth. He winced as the door slammed then padded back to the two girls sitting around the kitchen table. When he arrived, the two had gathered all of their books and schoolwork, both ready to leave.

"Sorry about Dana. She seems lovely. I'm just gonna go." Paris retreated, and he barely had time enough to mutter a good-bye before he heard the door close once again.

He turned towards Rory. "And what about you?"

"I'm sorry. About Dana and what happened earlier. I didn't want to cause all kinds of problems for you. So, I'm just gonna go."

"What about our study session? Luke will flip."

"Yeah, but it will be my problem not yours. I'm just gonna go. See ya, Gilmore."

She had turned and begun to walk out when he called her name once more.

"Hey Rory," She turned around, "I still love _Howl_."

She smiled, saying nothing, and finally walked out of the kitchen and the house. Then, as she closed the door, the phone rang.

"Hello? Mom! Wait, Wait, Wait. . .Slow down! Hold on, what about cucumbers in the water? Grandma what? She picked up a guy in a bar? Mom, you're talking way too fast! Wait, who swerved? What about a furry thing?"

* * *

My, this chapter took a whole lot out of me! Yes, I did take the liberty of combining the two episodes and molding them to fit the story and my liking. I really loved writing this chapter, and I hope you like it as much as I do, considering this is the longest one to date. So, basically just R/R. Thanks for all of your encouragement! Peace and love — moi. 


	8. New York State of Mind

A/N: Sorry it has taken awhile. I've been super busy. In the words of Rob Thomas, "I wish the real world would just stop hassling me." Oh, well. That will never happen. I also got my Wisdom teeth removed this past Thursday. Before you all send me flowers, everything was great. Morphine is one of God's greatest gifts to man. Anyway, here's chapter eight. Forgive me for not remembering the episode title I took this from, but it is the one where Rory travels to New York to see Jess, and say goodbye. If someone would jog my memory, that would be excellent. As always, R/R. Peace and Love — moi.

Disclaimer: Milo is running my blender ragged these days.

Without further ado . . .

He walked down the stairs almost into the living room before stopping to lean casually against the doorframe. He had never seen her look more peaceful, probably because of the Valium. He inwardly kicked himself for his last thought and continued to lean and watch. Lorelai was snuggled up on their frumpy couch, wrapped in an old quilt with headphones on her ears and a book in her hand. He smiled when he saw the color of the plaster on her arm: hot pink. He couldn't help but chuckle. He quietly padded over to her and tapped her shoulder causing her to jerk in fear and drop her book

"Oh my God! Chris, you scared me!" She exclaimed, sitting up and pulling the headphones from her ears. "What are you doing here?"

"Jess called last night when he found out you were in the emergency room."

"It's just a fracture. The cast comes off in two weeks. Plus, these pain killers are making me happy!" She gave him a toothy grin.

Christopher chuckled. "What happened? It was late when I got here, and Jess didn't have time to explain."

"My Mom's joining P.E.D.A. She swerved to keep from hitting a squirrel or possum or raccoon or whatever the hell that thing was! All I saw was a big ball of fluff. It would have been better flattened, but Emily wanted to flatten the Jaguar instead."

"Ouch. So, the furry thing ran free, and you're here with a fractured arm on painkillers, listening to . . ." he leaned in to hear the music blaring from the Walkman, "_The Joshua Tree_ while reading . . ." he paused again to see the title of her book, "An autobiography of Wendy O. Williams?"

"Pretty bitchin', huh?" She replied with a Valium-induced cackle, before leaning back on the sofa and immediately falling into a deep slumber.

He rolled his eyes, and then heard footsteps in the room. "She's a little whacked."

"I noticed. The last time she was this doped up, she was rambling about how if she had had a girl that she would have named her after herself instead of having a boy and naming you after me. She was outraged that their were way too many women that named their sons after their fathers. Then again, she did it anyway."

"I happen to like my name. Thanks for coming, Dad."

"Anything for you and your mother. Now, go on a quick coffee run before catching your bus. You'll be late if you don't go now."

"Right. See you tonight I guess."

"Tonight?" Christopher questioned.

"Yeah, I have an interview in Boston at five with a friend of Grandpa's. He's the Dean of English Literature at Harvard."

"Wow!" He said with a smile, pulling his son into a congratulatory hug.

"Yeah, I'm a little nervous though. I'll tell you all about it when I get back. Grandpa's picking me up from school. So, remind Mom when she stumbles out a catatonia."

Chris chuckled. "Will do. Call me on your cell if you need anything."

"Right. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, Jess."

* * *

"Here or to go?" Luke asked, going over to the coffee pot.

"To go." Jess stated simply. The man behind the counter watched him inadvertently as Jess moved his eyes around the room. The Diner was almost completely empty except for Rune and Andrew who were sitting in the back corner drinking tea and munching on bacon and eggs. Luke Danes knew immediately who he was looking for and knew that she wasn't there.

"She's gone Jess." He finally said, his voice gruff and faltering.

He looked at the elder man intensely, his honey-brown eyes piercing. He felt as if he had just been shot in the heart.

"What?" He managed to say.

"She left. Went back to New York. I got up this morning and her stuff was packed up. She was standing outside the Diner, smoking a cigarette and waiting for the next bus."

There was a pregnant pause. Jess too felt like grabbing for a pack of Marlboro lights.

"I'm sorry, Luke."

"Me too," He paused again, retrieving a piece of paper by the phone, " She left you something. Told me to give it to you."

He took the piece of paper from his hand and slowly read the words written in an all-too-familiar script.

_"Yeah, you'd love to come home, but you know you ain't got one 'cause you're living in a world where you're best forgotten, and you think you're gonna choke but nobody's gonna listen to the one small point I know they've been missing 'round here." _

_If you understand, then you'll know where to find me. _

_-Rory- _

No, he didn't understand. Not at that point, but maybe soon he would figure it out.

"Thanks, Luke. I gotta go. I'll be late for school." He quickly stated, grabbing the styrofoam cup in front of him and began to retreat out of the Diner.

"I'm gonna miss her too." But Luke admitted it to an empty Diner.

* * *

He walked off the bus with a copy of _Desolation Angels, _which Rory had given him, in one hand and a grande Starbucks blend in the other. Upon reaching the correct building, he was greeted by the same girl who had graced his kitchen only hours ago.

"Bon Jour, Paris." He greeted, receiving a scowl from the blonde. He knew just exactly how to push her buttons, and secretly, she loved that about him.

"Save it for your mother's concierge. What's his name? Michelin?"

He chuckled. His mother would love that one. "Sorry about last night."

"It's okay. I didn't wanna get in the middle of a fight between you and Dana. Don't worry about it. Although, I did wanna wish you luck in Boston today."

He smiled. He wasn't sure she was being honest with that statement. Paris was an extremely competitive person. So competitive, that she would do almost anything to win, be the best. Jess found quite odd that she was being so supportive. After all, She was the one who had told him the first day of school that _she_ owned the school. _She_ was Harvard-bound, and _she_ would be valedictorian. In the midst of his private reverie, a light, humming noise brought him back down to earth.

He raised a incredulous eyebrow. "Ghellar, are you humming?"

She looked down at her saddle-oxfords, embarrassed. "If I said no, would you leave me alone?"

"Not likely. What were you humming?"

She blushed. "An old Goo-Goo Dolls song that came on the radio this morning. I hadn't heard it in years."

This made him curious. Paris listened to the Goo-Goo Dolls? "Which one?"

"_Broadway_." She stated, matter-of-factly.

It sounded slightly familiar. "Remind me?"

And she expounded. "'Broadway is dark tonight. A little bit weaker than it used to be. See the young man sitting in the old man's bar waiting for his turn to die? You'd love to come home, but you know you ain't got one 'cause you're living in a world where you're best forgotten . . .'"

His eyes widened. Broadway. That's where he was supposed to find her. "Hey, Paris," He responded suddenly, as if he was unsure about what he was about to say, "I gotta go."

She plastered a skeptical look on her face. "Where do you think you're going? We have school. You have an interview in Boston."

As he wandered away from her to the bus, he yelled something familiar, "Take good notes."

She huffed as his figure disappeared. She was always the one to take notes, never the one he wanted to see.

* * *

After a long bus ride, Jess took a cab to her stomping grounds — the East Village — a place where, at one time, Bob Dylan played clubs nightly, Kerouac wrote _Big Sur_ on a bench somewhere on Bleaker, and Andy Warhol immortalized Marilyn Monroe on canvass. He leaned back watching the sights, as his dread-locked cabby sang out of tune the last few bars of_ No Woman, No Cry_. The cab stopped at a random locale, and Jess crawled out of the backseat. His eyes took in the sights, noting the Dakota Building not far in the distance. He smiled at the idea of John, Yoko, and a young Sean walking to the studio where they would soon record _Double Fantasy_. He kept walking and before he realized it, was standing in a familiar yet unfamiliar spot: Washington Square Park. His eyes were then diverted to a small sidewalk café across from the park, and though it was a complete world away from the Great White Way, the sign above the door read _Broadway Eatery_. He then saw a warm body sitting on the bench outside the window, and just like he knew she would be, she sat with a copy of _Oliver Twist_ and a cigarette.

"Nothing like an afternoon with a good book and cancer on a stick." He quipped, walking up the sidewalk.

Her head popped up, and she smiled. "Damn right." She then took a long drag.

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, give the Marlboro Man my regrets."

"Will do, but first, answer me this. What the hell are you doing here?"

He just smiled.

* * *

Lorelai was napping so he sat there surfing through television. Nothing was on. Ron Popeil telling everyone to set it and forget it. _Yuck_. A _Newlyweds_ marathon on MTV. _Not a chance in hell_. A Mary-Kate and Ashley movie. _You've gotta be kidding me._ Wolf Blitzer_. Even that sounds tempting._ Finally, a Jon Stewart rerun. _Now, we're talking._ As Christopher settled in to watch HBO's parody news show with a bowl of popcorn, the phone rang.

"Crap Shack." He answered, in his head seeing Lorelai snickering.

"Christopher? Is that you?" It was a familiar voice he had been hearing all his life. This time her tone sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Hello, Emily. Yeah, It's me."

"What a nice surprise! I suppose Lorelai called you. How is she, by the way?"

"Sleeping like a baby. I'm glad only the car was permanently damaged. How's Richard?"

"He'll be much better when you tell us where Jess is."

He furrowed his brow. "What do you mean? I thought the three of you were going to Boston for the interview?"

"I thought so too. Apparently Jess had other plans. When you see him, tell him If he wants to throw away his future, don't embarrass us in the process. He's just thrown a marvelous opportunity out the window!" She exclaimed.

Christopher could imagine her twisting her string of pearls around her fingers in complete exasperation. "I will, Emily. You know that's normally not like him. I'm sure he has a perfectly good explanation."

"Well let's hope he does!"

* * *

She giggled slightly, leaning back against the plastic leather cushions, watching him grin across the table. Jess was definitely putting this on his list of absolute perfect days. They had talked all afternoon, and he had actually gotten her to open up about school, life, and everything in between. She talked with him about past relationships, and He talked with her about his current one. He wasn't sure why he was so comfortable spilling all his secrets with her, but it came as the most natural thing in the world. They talked about literature. She couldn't understand why he couldn't make it through _Atlas Shrugged_, and he didn't understand why she found _The Green Hills of Africa_ to be the literary equivalent to a sleeping pill. Nevertheless, they both enjoyed idle chatter about Steinbeck's description of the Salinas Valley in _East of Eden_, Tolstoy's intriguingly sad train-wreck ending to _Anna Karennina_, or even the six-inch tall inhabitants of the island of Lilliput. Now, they found themselves sharing a pizza, like they did the even of Bid-a-Basket day.

"I still can't believe Paris doesn't like the Beats." Rory exclaimed, before biting into a hunk of crust.

"She says they're a waste of paper. She says, 'I've got one word for Kerouac — edit.'"

Rory rolled her eyes. "She just didn't grow up in the Village. If she ever got through _Tristessa_, she'd change her mind."

"Rory, that's about a lady and her chihuahua, chicken, and some more animals in the Mexican slums. I doubt Paris would even give it a glance. Paris read _The Count of Monte Cristo_ for fun."

"This coming from the guy who hates _Hard Times_ but loves _Old Man and the Sea_." She challenged, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

"Dickens needed to leave the political satire at home. Ernest created a metaphorical masterpiece."

"Santiago, boy, Joe DiMaggio, fish, dead fish . . .blah, blah, blah."

He gave a defeated sigh. "Just because you haven't discovered his genius doesn't mean he wasn't one."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Kerouac was genius. Paris needs to give him a chance."

"She does."

And then they smiled at each other. He loved it when she smiled, a genuine smile. It was so rare, but when she gave him a glimpse, it was nice.

And then, she spoke, "You never answered my question. Why did you come here?"

He looked up from his plate to her face, a shocked glare on his own. She had asked him this question an unnumerable amount of times, and he had always managed to avoid it. Now, he wasn't so sure. The only thing he could think of to do was leave, and that's what he did. He retrieved a twenty from his wallet, left it on the table, and rose from the booth.

"I gotta go. It's getting late. Mom's probably going crazy by now."

She watched him go out the door before getting up and following him.

"Jess!" She yelled down the sidewalk, receiving odd looks from passers-by. He didn't turn around. "Jess!" He still didn't turn around. "Jess, I'm sorry! I didn't wanna leave!"

This got his attention. He turned around and began to slowly pad back down the sidewalk.

"I'm glad you came! I missed you too!" She was still yelling.

Before she could utter another word, he kissed her, and it felt like redemption. She took in his scent — coffee and laundry detergent, and he took in hers — shampoo and cigarettes. He put an arm around her waist, and she ran her hand through his disheveled hair, both feeling the contrast of Oxford cloth, leather, and warm skin. She felt his tongue graze the roof of her mouth, tickled, she hesitantly released his lips.

She backed away slowly. His eyes looked to her pink lips, swollen and glossy. She finally muttered, "I guess that was good-bye."

Then, they turned around and walked in opposite directions. Her cheeks blushed, and he was grazing his lips, realizing they were swollen as well.

* * *

Well, that was it. I hoped you liked it. Thank you all for your reviews of the past chapters, and I expect more. Hint. Hint. Anyway, R/R, and I will love you forever. Peace and Love — Caroline.


	9. Music to My Ears

A/N: Here it is. Chapter 9. I hope you like it. It is my version of "I Can't Get Started" for this Fic. Please, R/R. Peace and Love — Caroline.

Disclaimer: Milo is making me a dirty Martini right about now . . .

Without further ado . . .

"Better drinking fountains, updated lockers, clearly marked boys' and girls' restrooms, non-dairy and wheat-free alternatives to the cafeteria, a larger voice in the monetary dispersal of charitable funds donated to our institution — because it is our institution, yours and mine. Remember people, If Chilton soars, we soar. If Chilton fails, we fail. It is up to us, we must get involved, we must care. It is not enough to sign a petition to get a Little Debbie machine installed in the senior corridor. Snack cakes will not change the world. Cream filling will not decide our legacy. How will future generations of Chilton students remember the class of 2003? John F. Kennedy once said, 'Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.' Those eloquent words are just as relevant to here in this hall today. What can you, the future of Chilton, of America, of the world, what can you do for your school? I can tell you what you can do. You can vote for me, Paris Ghellar, for student body president, and let me start tomorrow for you today. Thank you." Paris walked away from the podium, smiling and confident. Yes, she had nailed the speech.

Mrs. O'Malley then followed up her speech, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank Reese McGinly, Schazti Leason, and Paris Ghellar, your presidential candidates for next year. Elections will held this Friday. Good Luck to all of you. This conclude's today's assembly. You are all dismissed."

As everyone exited the auditorium, Paris walked over to Jess who was sitting in the hallway writing.

"Hey." Paris greeted.

He looked up from his assignment. "Hey." He echoed.

She smiled as he looked at her. "Did you get the Little Debbie comment?"

He rolled his eyes. "Uh huh."

"All of it? The creme filling, the snack cake?" She was seeming eager of his opinion. Jess dully noted this in his mind.

"Every delicious morsel."

"Good, Good," She seemed dissatisfied still, "So, how do you think it went?"

He smiled. "I think it went fine."

She bit her cheek. "Fine, as in better than Reese and Schatzi?"

"Fine as in Fine." He nodded for effect.

She nodded as well. "Well, how are you skewing the article?" She assumed that was what he was writing.

"Well, you'll just have to wait and read about it in _The Franklin_ like everyone else."

She just nodded once more. "Fine, write whatever you want."

"I will." He replied, matter-of-factly.

This just annoyed her. She cocked her head, and placed her balled fists akimbo. "Just make sure that Schatzi pulling the Sharon Shone/_Basic Instinct_ bit was a cheap attempt to distract the whole student body from my mandatory recycling program."

He just shook his head in unbelief. "Go away, Randolph!"

* * *

The two of them had created two piles, each having a large cardboard box labeled: PLAY and DON'T PLAY. For hours, Jess and Lane had been arguing over what music to play at the reception. Earlier, they had finally decided on the wedding song for Sookie and Jackson, both gravely deciding against Sookie's previous decision — Ella Fitzgerald's _I Can't Get Started_. However, the duo decided on another Jazz yet not so depressing crooner — Etta James' _At Last_. Both agreeing that it was classic, romantic, and wedding appropriate. Now, they were at a musical stalemate.

"Liz Phair?" Lane asked, holding up the super-goddess' self-titled album.

Jess shook his head. "That's a little intense. My grandparents are gonna be there. All though _Supernova_ is a kick-ass song, Liz did kinda compare men to underwear. That hit me right there." He touched his heart for added dramatics, and she giggled.

"Okay," Lane placed the album in the reject box and picked up another, "Nirvana? They're classic!"

He rolled his eyes. "Lane, I've got one line for you, 'Eat your can cancer 'til it turns black.'"

She nodded, immediately turning it away, picking up another album. "Rolling Stones?"

He seemed intrigued. "Which one?'

"_Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out_?"

"Not wedding material. Neither is _Sticky Fingers_, but if you've got _Happy_, that's something we can work with."

"Dully noted." She placed the three previous mentioned albums in their correct boxes.

Lane continued to sift through more vinyls when she discovered a single 45. "_The Luckiest_?"

He raised an eyebrow, interested. "As in Ben Folds Five?"

"Yep!" She declared, confident that this one would be a winner.

He bit his lip in thought. "Obscure enough. Romantic enough. Not cheesy. By George, I think we have a winner!"

Lane smiled, dropping it into the PLAY box. "How 'bout Jeff Buckley?"

"Which one?"

"_Grace_."

He grinned. "Perfect." He thought a minute. "Hey, let's play it."

She put the record on the turnstile, and the soothing notes of _Hallelujah_ came out.

_I heard there was a secret cord/That David played and it pleased the Lord/ But you don't really care for music do you? That's how it goes, the fourth, the fifth . . ._

"God, this is a great song!" Lane exclaimed, rocking her head to the beat.

Jess nodded. "I concur," He smiled to himself, a memory he was picturing in his mind from only a few days ago, "You know what Rory told me the other day?"

He looked to Lane. Her expression seemed to turn cold. They hadn't spent much time together lately. It was always Dana or Rory, an endless cycle.

"What?" Lane said, not looking at him, sifting through more records.

"When she had her first kiss, this song was playing in the background. How cheesy, huh?" He snickered to himself.

She lightly echoed his laughing. "Yeah," She paused, "Do you miss her, Jess?"

He didn't want to lie. Really. Lane was his best friend outside his mother. He could tell her everything. Everything but this. "Lane, Rory and I were friends. So, she went back to New York. I'll get over it. We talked about books, Lane. That's it."

She nodded, not believing a word he had just said. "Really?"

"Really." He echoed, trying to sound succinct.

* * *

With Paul McCartney's _Maybe I'm Amazed_ softly playing in the background, the attendees of the reception slow-danced, including Jess and Dana. Then, while spinning her around for a second time, he saw someone walk up to the punch bowl out of the corner of his eye. It was Paris. He then stopped dancing to greet her.

"You better start belting _Hail to the Chief_, Gilmore!" Paris exclaimed with a huge grin one her face.

He smiled in return. "I'd rather not but congrats anyway."

"Thank you."

"Did you drive all the way to Stars Hollow just to tell me than you've been elected to be Chilton's newest communist dictator?"

"No, I'm actually here to say good-bye. I'm going to D.C. for the summer to learn how to be the best Karl Mark I can be."

"Well, say hi to Engels for me, and don't write any Manifestos while you're there."

She grinned and pulled him into a bear hug. "Bye, Jess. I'll miss you."

"Bye, Paris."

They then parted and were joined by his mother and father who had been dancing as well.

"Paris, what are you doing here?" Lorelai asked, with Chris' arm wrapped around her waist.

"Just saying good-bye. I'm going to Washington for the summer."

"As in Georgetown, the Pentagon, and 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?" Chris threw in.

"That's the one."

He then felt his cell phone vibrate. "If you'll excuse me." He replied, pulling the phone out of his pocket.

They all nodded. "I really have to go. Nanny is taking me to the airport in an hour. Have a great summer, Jess. See in September."

She walked off towards the street. As he was waving to Paris, he saw a figure standing by a tree at the path towards the Inn. A very familiar figure. The color left his face, and he immediately felt dizzy, losing his equilibrium altogether. He then muttered something to his mother and girlfriend about being right back, then ran to the tree to get a closer look.

"What are you doing here?" At the sight of her, that was all he could say.

She smirked. "Hello to you, too," She paused to look into his wide eyes, "You clean up good."

"Thank you," His voice was extremely shaky, "Why did you come back?"

She shrugged. "Just wanted to I guess."

And then he did one of the most strangest things he'd ever done — He kissed her. And from their spot on the dance floor, the two women he'd just left behind were watching every move he made.

Dana looked crushed. "You knew he liked her. Didn't you, Lorelai?"

Lorelai seemed completely frazzled and lost for words. "Dana . . .I . ." She just stayed quiet and looked down at her shoes.

* * *

Well, I hoped you like it. This one is a bit short. I apologize for that. I also apologize for it being so long since I've updated. As you can see, this chapter was patterned after "I Can't Get Started."

To be specific, the first scene is straight from the episode. I'll give $5 to the first person who can guess how many times I had to watch this episode on DVD to get Paris' speech. Trust me, you don't wanna know. It's a little disturbing (Then again, the kissing scene between Milo and Alexis is just plain hot so that makes up for it!) Yes, you'll probably recognize the dialogue from that scene too. The scene between Lorelai and Dana was shaped after the scene between Lorelai and Dean at the end of "Back in the Saddle." Anyway, thank you all for your kind thoughts. I hope you liked it. Again, R/R. Peace and Love — Caroline.


	10. Shock Kiss Shock

A/N: Sorry its taken so long. This chapter is short, but its better than the last, I think. For those of you who requested some flashbacks. This chapter has one — It's in italics. My favorite dialogue is Lorelai's — it's just fun. I hope you like this chapter as much as I do! R/R.

Peace and Love — Caroline.

Disclaimer: We've already been through this!

* * *

There was a long, pregnant silence as the two walked from the Independence Inn to Dana's home. He had been casually glancing up from his shoes to her face every so often, hoping to receive some type of acknowledgment, begging to be back in her good graces. He'd apologized and she had forgiven him; however, Jess sensed that they were still playing this one-sided game of freeze-out.

"Dana, I told you I was sorry!" He exclaimed, breaking the bitter silence.

Her face remained stoic and her shoulder cold. "I know." And she was practically refusing to look him in the eye.

He hadn't spoken with Rory since the wedding. She had left very quickly after seeing the expression on Dana Forrester's face. It was obvious that Dana's strong dislike for Rory had quickly bolted into blind hatred.

"Can't you talk to me?" Jess pleaded, moving from her side to walking backwards in order for her to see his face.

She sighed loudly, dramatically. "I love you, but you _kissed_ another girl! And, now, after a little apology, you think that everything is rainbows and butterflies? Right . . .Sure. You'll be kissing my ass for quite awhile, Christopher Jess!"

"I'm willing to do that." And he was. He wanted his girlfriend back. One that he would know for sure that she was his.

She crossed her arms. He could almost sense the harsh comeback she was spinning in her head.

"But you weren't willing to stop hanging out with her when I asked."

This was true. He wasn't and he hadn't, but he and Rory were friends . . .sort of . . .maybe. They were friends who just so happened to have kissed — twice. That he would keep to himself. Nevertheless, Dana was going to bring it up, which just poured more salt into his already opened wounds.

"We are friends, but I love you and if it's what you really want." He cringed as the words escaped. Rory was not something he could give up cold turkey. She was his habit, his miracle drug.

She nodded. "Yes, I wanna go back to the way it used to be. It will be difficult, but I wanna try. I really do."

He smiled, "I do too." He leaned in and lightly brushed her cheek with his lips, just before falling back into a much more comfortable silence. He bit his lip as they continued to walk. He knew Dana's request was going to be strangely difficult, and that scared him.

* * *

His mother had sent him on a coffee run. Thanks to Lorelai, it was Johnny Depp night at the Crap Shack, which meant _Edward Scissorhands_, _What's Eating Gilbert Grape?_, and _Pirates of the Caribbean_. And as a young Leonardo DiCaprio was climbing the fire tower, Lorelai had a craving, which meant Jess had to journey to Luke's. When he arrived, a familiar face was wiping down counter-tops and chairs.

"Hey." She greeted, going behind the counter and pouring him the mug she knew he wanted.

"Can we talk?" He knew Rory wasn't much of a talker. And she knew that no good could come from a conversation that began with those words.

She then leaned on the counter, resting her chin on her fist as if in a conversational position. "Shoot."

He was extremely nervous. "At the wedding, I . . .uh."

"Kissed me. Go on." Brutal honesty. That was one of the things he loved most about Rory. She never chose to beat around the bush.

"Yeah," He began, dragging out the syllables in a skittish manner, "And I shouldn't have."

Her facial expressions read that she was obviously perplexed. "At the wedding or New York?"

"Both." His clarification, however, was not good enough.

Because she was angry. "Really! How so?"

"Because I have a girlfriend whom I love and would never want to hurt again."

She pursed her lips. "Huh?"

"What?"

"It's kinda comical. You kiss me. Twice. I put myself out on a line for you, and now, you run back to your future Stepford Wife? That's rich, Jess! He could hear the biting sarcasm and disgust in her voice, each word painful to say.

"I'm sorry," And he was. "Dana and I have been seeing each other for far too long to end it now."

"Son of a bitch." She muttered mostly to herself and then hissed. "Whatever."

She yelled to Luke upstairs that she was going out, grabbed her leather jacket, and walked out the door, the door bell clanging loudly from the force behind it.

* * *

The walk back home from Luke's seemed like miles, every time his sole hit the pavement another sinful thought came to mind. He was actually considering going back to apologize, knowing fully well what the consequences would be. When he arrived in the living room, he found his mother watching the extras on the _Pirates of the Caribbean_ DVD — rewinding the Johnny Depp commentary over and over again; He was her eye candy.

"Can't you just appreciate his acting?" Jess asked, shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth.

"Never!" She exclaimed adamantly, waggling her eyebrows as if having scandalous thoughts.

He grinned, as they walked into the kitchen for more red vines. "Dirty!"

Lorelai looked down at his coffee-less hands and then up to his distanced eyes, then frustrated that she hadn't taken notice sooner. "What happened at the Diner?" She tried to sound nonchalant.

He ran his fingers through his hair and tapped his foot nervously. His eyes darted around the room — Tonya Roberts in the sink, one of Lorelai's boots inside the oven, the monkey lamp in the living room, the singing Rabbi. When his eyes fell on his mother's Bunny Ranch tee shirt hanging on the back of one of the chairs, his thoughts fell in the gutter, and he cracked.

"I kissed Rory!"

She raised her eyebrows. "Again! At the Diner!"

His voice was calm and rational, unlike his mother. "No," He counted numbers in his head for catharsis. 1. Breath. 2. Breath. 3. Breath . . . "In New York."

Her brow furrowed. "What! When! First of all, when did you go to New York?"

"This past week. The day of the Harvard interview."

"What?" Her eyes dilated. "So, the wedding kiss was just the finale that could be dramatized by Michelle Kwan and Rudy Gullindo doing some triple toe, sow cow thing-y on ice. Thank God you rehearsed it first!"

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Mom, please don't be like this."

"Be like what, Jess? You kiss another girl . . .twice. And I'm pretty sure you haven't filled Dana in on lip-lock #1. An I'm also pretty sure that, if she hadn't witnessed it, you wouldn't have told her about lip-lock #2 either. That's crappy, and frankly, I thought better of you."

"It was really spontaneous." And that was all he could come up with.

Lorelai shook her head. "Really? 'Cause the last time I checked you were still Mr. I-Plan-Everything-Including-What-Breakfast-Cereal-I'm-In-The-Mood-For. Let's see . . .Frosted Flakes or Lucky Charms . . .Hmm . . .that's a tough one! I think I'll make a pros and cons list to help me decide. Okay, one has fun-shaped marshmallows and the other has . . ."

"FINE!" He out-bursted. "So, I'd thought about it before!"

"Uh-huh. That's what I figured. Again, that's beyond crappy. Take it from a woman who knows, Dana deserves your full attention. If you don't think you can give her that, then it should end."

They sat there in silence, Jess mulling over his mother's words, and minutes passed by and neither said a word. He knew she was right. They way she had looked into his eyes said all.

"Jess," Lorelai finally broke the silence, "one of them is going to get hurt, but that's the price you're going to have to pay. Pat Benatar might write a song about you, but you'll be okay."

He smiled. Because she was joking, he knew everything was okay between them. He then padded into his room and took his "Dana" box down from the closet. His mother would never let it go if she knew he'd kept one.

* * *

_Cornstarch, of all things. She was new to town and beautiful. She had immediately picked up on his "Rosemary's Baby" line and liked the Pixies. Taylor had offered her a job as the market check-out girl, and she gladly accepted. Jess had been coming in the market everyday, watching her like Jennifer Anniston in a smock. _

_"What are you doing?" Dana asked, scaring him out from behind a rack of Ramen noodles. _

_He jumped. "Oh, nothing. Just picking up a few necessities." The first thing that was in view was a box of cornstarch, and he reached out and grabbed it. _

_Dana just chuckled when she saw the item in his grip. "And here I was thinking necessities were milk and bread!" _

_His face was already blushing. "Not in the Gilmore household." _

_She cocked her head. "Uh-huh. Right. Says the guy who eats out for every meal!" _

_How did she know this? Had she been watching him? Both were interesting questions? However, the only thing he could think of to do was kiss her. And he did. _

_As they pulled apart, she blushed, and he was like a dear in headlights. He looked into her eyes, then ran out the Market door . . .with the cornstarch still in hand. _

He took the cornstarch out of the box among other things. A copy of _Moby Dick_. The tie he'd worn to the winter formal. A copy of _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_. As he thought back to the day of their first kiss, was he really willing to give it all up? Give up everything he'd gained in the past two years for a literate, brunette New Yorker with a navel ring? He wasn't sure. He needed to make a pros and cons list first.

* * *

This morning, like every morning, the Gilmore's headed to Luke's for breakfast. Due to his present circumstances, Lorelai tried to convince her son that a pop-tart at home would be better, but Jess replied that he didn't want to appear weak. As they sat up at the counter, engorged in their usual witty banter, Luke poured their coffee. And even though his eyes wanted to dart around the room looking for Rory; his eyes just rested on the mug Luke had put in front of him.

"So, we're starting our beginning of summer movie marathon this evening correct?" Lorelai confirmed.

Jess nodded. "Right. Start with _Lord of the Rings_, and the supplementary DVD stuff. Then, _The Godfather_ — I, II, and finish it off with Sophia dying. Third on our agenda we said we would do a category — music or food?"

"And the musical category would consist of . . ."

"_Empire Records_, _Syd and Nancy_, Spinal Tap, et cetera."

"And the food . . ."

"Well, we made up the food category simply because we could only find one movie that would apply and that was Willy Wonka. And you said to keep it because it deserved its own category."

"And it does!"

Luke, who had been listening, finally spoke, "The things the two of you find amusing astound me sometimes!"

Jess chuckled. "That's why she's a nihilist."

As the two smiled, Rory came down the stairs and a guy entered the Diner. Jess remembered him to be Shawn. His last name she couldn't quite remember. Then, Shawn padded towards the counter, only stopping to meet Rory . . .lips first.


End file.
